Chapter 27

If Smith had been in his right senses he would have been sensible of something wrong in my pace, but he was too drunk to notice. Beyond the turnpike was a long piece of road, upon which fresh stones had just been laid--large sharp stones, over which no horse could be driven quickly without risk of danger. Over this road, with one shoe gone, I was forced to gallop at my utmost speed, my rider meanwhile cutting into me with his whip, and with wild curses urging me to go still faster. Of course my shoeless foot suffer…