E. W. Hornung,
At the Pistol's Point
(1897)
“ Another question now forced itself upon the old man's mind: how far was it from Portland prison—to—this—room? Like most rustics of his generation, old Fitch had no spare knowledge of geography: he knew his own country-side and the road to London, but that was all. Portland he knew to be on the other side of London; it might be ten miles, might be two hundred; but this he felt in his shuddering heart and shaking bones, that near or far, deep snow or no snow, Henry Cattermole was either recaptured or else on his way to that cottage at that moment. ”
