A few twilight shapes were pattering through the narrow street--a squad of Yamen runners haling a prisoner.
"The Sword-Pen remains active," said Heywood, thoughtfully.

"That dingy little procession, do you know, it's quite theatrical?
The Cross and the Dragon.

Eh?
Another act's coming." Even Rudolph could spare a misgiving from his own difficulty while he watched the prisoner.

It was Chok Chung, the plump Christian merchant, slowly trudging toward the darkest of human courts, to answer for the death of the cormorant-fisher.

The squad passed by.