The coolies were chattering at each other at a terrific rate and I judged, from their tones, that they liked the night no better than we. While we were standing close together in the road, all talking at once and trying to tell each other what horrible experiences we had had, we saw a faint glimmer away in the distance, growing more and more distinct as it came up the long hill. It was the dauntless Maria with a light. We fell upon her with the warmest welcome she probably ever received in her life, and everybody at once cheered up. Even the coolies got happier and seemed to chatter less angrily in the lantern’s dim but comforting yellow glow. Nor did we separate again. Everybody wanted to keep close to that light. It revealed to us the reassuring fact that the road was, at least, wide enough for safety, and so we rolled soggily along, with no other sound but the rattle of many wheels and the splash of mud, until we arrived at the Fujiya Hotel, sometime after ten o’clock, in a state of utter exhaustion.