Not many years ago, two men, employed on this duty, quarrelled during the night, and in the morning their bodies were found stretched upon the pavement of the yard beneath. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. Every one else does. Light the lantern. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe.
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