it almost made me forget my present misery.

It must have been about midday when I decided on a move. In a way I
suppose it was a rash thing to do, but I had got so cursedly cramped
and cold again that I felt if I didn't take some exercise I should
never last out the day. Even as it was, my legs had lost practically
all feeling, and for the first few steps I took I was staggering about
like a drunkard.

Keeping to the thickest part of the wood, I made my way slowly
forward; my idea being to reach the top of the valley and then lie low
again until nightfall. My progress was not exactly rapid, for after
creeping a yard or two at a time I would crouch down and listen
carefully for any sounds of danger. I had covered perhaps a mile in
this spasmodic fashion when a gradual improvement in the light ahead
told me that I was approaching open ground. A few steps farther, and
through a gap in the trees a red roof suddenly came into view, with a
couple of chimney-pots smoking away cheerfully in the rain.

It gave me a bit of a start, for I had not expected to run into
civilization quite so soon as this. I stopped where I was and did
a little bit of rapid thinking. Where there's a house there must
necessarily be some way of getting at it, and the only way I could
think of in this case was a private drive up the hill into the main
Devonport road. If there was such a drive the house was no doubt a
private residence and a fairly large one at that.

With infinite precaution I began to creep forward again. Between the
trunks of the trees I could catch glimpses of a stout wood paling
about six feet high which apparently ran the whole length of the