The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. There it is. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. I often wonder why the young always take us ancients for nambypamby creatures. No; she'd never go back. Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn. “But, forgive me, you are tired. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering.
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