[Editorial] highroad -> high road

src/epub/text/chapter-8.xhtml

@@ -112,7 +112,7 @@
 				</p>
 			</blockquote>
 			<p>I hardly remember what I did or left undone. I only know that nothing broke, that somehow I kept my hold, and that in the end the wire ran red-hot through my palms so that both were torn and bleeding when I stood panting beside Raffles in the flowerbeds. There was no time for thinking then. Already there was a fresh commotion indoors; the tidal wave of excitement which had swept all before it to the upper regions was subsiding in as swift a rush downstairs; and I raced after Raffles along the edge of the drive without daring to look behind.</p>
-			<p>We came out by the opposite gate to that by which we had stolen in. Sharp to the right ran the private lane behind the stables and sharp to the right dashed Raffles, instead of straight along the open road. It was not the course I should have chosen, but I followed Raffles without a murmur, only too thankful that he had assumed the lead at last. Already the stables were lit up like a chandelier; there was a staccato rattle of horseshoes in the stable yard, and the great gates were opening as we skimmed past in the nick of time. In another minute we were skulking in the shadow of the kitchen-garden wall while the highroad rang with the dying tattoo of galloping hoofs.</p>
+			<p>We came out by the opposite gate to that by which we had stolen in. Sharp to the right ran the private lane behind the stables and sharp to the right dashed Raffles, instead of straight along the open road. It was not the course I should have chosen, but I followed Raffles without a murmur, only too thankful that he had assumed the lead at last. Already the stables were lit up like a chandelier; there was a staccato rattle of horseshoes in the stable yard, and the great gates were opening as we skimmed past in the nick of time. In another minute we were skulking in the shadow of the kitchen-garden wall while the high road rang with the dying tattoo of galloping hoofs.</p>
 			<p>“That’s for the police,” said Raffles, waiting for me. “But the fun’s only beginning in the stables. Hear the uproar, and see the lights! In another minute they’ll be turning out the hunters for the last run of the season!”</p>
 			<p>“We mustn’t give them one, Raffles!”</p>
 			<p>“Of course we mustn’t; but that means stopping where we are.”</p>