“Hold him! seize him!” shouted Sir Henry Clavering, at the same moment starting up and giving chase without his hat. Boddily, Chaddick, and several of the young men-servants rushed after him like a dash of enraged hornets from their hole. Scammel was already across the lawn, springing over the sunk fence into the park at a bound like that of a buck, and was in full career towards the other side of the park where there was a great mass of wood bounding it. The park descended rapidly on that side towards the river, which, more to the right, skirted its bottom. It was amazing with what speed Scammel flew down the hill, considering how his limbs had been corded and cramped for above twelve hours. But Sir Henry, who ran splendidly, was gaining fast upon him, spite of the proverb, that a stern chase is a long chase. Tom Boddily was close upon Sir Henry, and said, “For God’s sake, Sir Henry, don’t attempt to seize that fellow yourself, he has the strength of a giant and the will of a devil. With one blow he would drop you as a butcher drops an ox.” Sir Henry made no reply, but still put out all his strength to overtake Scammel. Behind came half a dozen others, running with different speeds. On the lawn by the house, Simon Degge, Thomas Clavering, and the women servants were seen eagerly watching this extraordinary chase, and from an open window above, Lady Clavering might be seen, evidently in great agitation, watching it also. All at once Scammel suddenly altered his course, and wheeling to the right, made for the river. There was a deep ditch and high park palings on the side towards which he had been running, and this had probably flashed on his mind. Boats lay at their moorings in the river; if he got one, he might yet give them a wild chase across the meadows or hide himself in some thicket, or amid the flags and weeds of one of the sluggish streams that crept rather than ran through them. The sight of Scammel’s change of course changed instantly that of all the pursuers. Those behind seemed brought nearer to him by the change, his goal being different. But he was far enough ahead of even Sir Henry and Boddily to reach the river bank some distance before them, for he was in everyday training from his predatory and nocturnal habits. There were two boats chained to their posts, but, to his mortification, the mooring-chains were fast locked. Catching up a large pebble, he began hammering desperately at one of the locks, and then plucking violently at the chain. It resisted all his efforts. The pursuers were at hand; he turned and plunged into the stream.