Springing into it desperately, handcuffed as he was, Israel leaps atop
of the barrier, and without pausing to see where he is, drops himself to
the ground on the other side, and once more lets grow all his wings.
Meantime, with loud outcries, the two baffled drunkards grope
deliriously about in the garden.

After running two or three miles, and hearing no sound of pursuit,
Israel reins up to rid himself of the handcuffs, which impede him. After
much painful labor he succeeds in the attempt. Pressing on again with
all speed, day broke, revealing a trim-looking, hedged, and beautiful
country, soft, neat, and serene, all colored with the fresh early tints
of the spring of 1776.

Bless me, thought Israel, all of a tremble, I shall certainly be caught
now; I have broken into some nobleman's park.

But, hurrying forward again, he came to a turnpike road, and then knew
that, all comely and shaven as it was, this was simply the open country
of England; one bright, broad park, paled in with white foam of the
sea. A copse skirting the road was just bursting out into bud. Each
unrolling leaf was in very act of escaping from its prison. Israel
looked at the budding leaves, and round on the budding sod, and up at
the budding dawn of the day. He was so sad, and these sights were so
gay, that Israel sobbed like a child, while thoughts of his mountain
home rushed like a wind on his heart. But conquering this fit, he
marched on, and presently passed nigh a field, where two figures were
working. They had rosy cheeks, short, sturdy legs, showing the blue
stocking nearly to the knee, and were clad in long, coarse, white
frocks, and had on coarse, broad-brimmed straw hats. Their faces were
partly averted.