The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. We were expecting rather to find a male antagonist. Wood, "because he found him in the river!—ha! ha!" "Ha! ha!" echoed Smith, taking another bumper of brandy; "he'll set the Thames on fire one of these days, I'll warrant him!" "That's more than you'll ever do, you drunken fool!" growled Jackson, in an under tone: "be cautious, or you'll spoil all!" "Suppose we send for a bowl of punch," said Kneebone. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape.
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