"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. He was alarmed when she returned to the stage and her eyes passed over him in the audience. ” Anna nodded, and Mr.
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