And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have
seized me, I clear'd a space with Anthony's sword, made a run for
the casement, and dropp'd out upon the bowling-green.

A pretty shout went up as I pick'd myself off the turf and rush'd
for the back door. 'Twas unbarr'd, and in a moment I found myself
tearing down the passage and out into the Corn Market, with a score
or so tumbling downstairs at my heels, and yelling to stop me.
Turning sharp to my right, I flew up Ship Street, and through the
Turl, and doubled back up the High Street, sword in hand. The people
I pass'd were too far taken aback, as I suppose, to interfere. But
a many must have join'd in the chase: for presently the street behind
me was thick with the clatter of footsteps and cries of "A thief--a
thief! Stop him!"

At Quater Voies I turn'd again, and sped down toward St. Aldate's,
thence to the left by Wild Boar Street, and into St. Mary's Lane. By
this, the shouts had grown fainter, but were still following. Now I
knew there was no possibility to get past the city gates, which were
well guarded at night. My hope reach'd no further than the chance of
outwitting the pursuit for a while longer. In the end I was sure the
potboy's evidence would clear me, and therefore began to enjoy the
fun. Even my certain expulsion from College on the morrow seem'd of
a piece with the rest of events and (prospectively) a matter for
laughter. For the struggle at the "Crown" had unhinged my wits, as
I must suppose and you must believe, if you would understand my
behavior in the next half hour.

A bright thought had struck me: and taking a fresh wind, I set off
again round the corner of Oriel College, and down Merton Street