BONSA TOWN When consciousness returned to Alan, the first thing of which he became dimly aware was the slow, swaying motion of a litter.

He raised himself, for he was lying at full length, and in so doing felt that there was something over his face.
"That confounded Little Bonsa," he thought.

"Am I expected to spend the rest of my life with it on my head like the man in the iron mask ?" Then he put up his hand and felt the thing, to find that it was not Little Bonsa, but something made apparently of thin, fine linen, fitted to the shape of his face, for there was a nose on it, and eyeholes through which he could see, yes, and a mouth whereof the lips by some ingenious contrivance could be moved up and down.
"Little Bonsa's undress uniform, I expect," he muttered, and tried to drag it off.

This, however, proved to be impossible, for it was fitted tightly to his head and laced or fastened at the back of his neck so securely that he could not undo it.

Being still weak, soon he gave up the attempt and began to look about him.
He was in a litter, a very fine litter hung round with beautifully woven and coloured grass mats, inside of which were a kind of couch and cushions of soft wool or hair, so arranged that he could either sit up or lie down.