The white cloth was instantly dyed with crimson; but, regardless of this, Jonathan continued his murderous assault. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. This, Wood, acting upon Terry's caution, was most unwilling to do; but, finding he had no alternative, he reluctantly made known his errand and the bolts were undrawn.
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