The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. " "Why not?" rejoined Mrs. " "Mad as you are, you're the more sensible of the two, I must say," rejoined Jonathan. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right. "When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood.
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