Then their powers of observation broke down. For the time they were full. So they played Up-Jenkins riotously all the way to London: and when they arrived hardly noticed it. They were quite loath to get out, and finally did so into as thick a pea-soup fog as London could produce at the tail end of the season. At this they began to wake up again, and jog themselves to remember that this really was _England_, so as not to miss things. They had just realised that the train had run right inside a sort of enormous house, lit by haloed yellow lights and full of this extraordinary orange-coloured air, when Mrs. Thornton found them. ‘Mother!’ cried Emily. She had not known she could be so glad to see her. As for Mrs. Thornton, she was far beyond the bounds of hysteria. The little ones held back at first, but soon followed Emily’s example, leaping on her and shouting: indeed it looked more like Actæon with his hounds than a mother with her children: their monkey-like little hands tore her clothes in pieces, but she didn’t care a hoot. As for their father, he had totally forgotten how much he disliked emotional scenes. ‘I slept with an alligator!’ Emily was shouting at intervals. ‘Mother! I’ve slept with an alligator!’ Margaret stood in the background holding all their parcels. None of her relations had appeared at the station. Mrs. Thornton’s eye at last took her in. ‘Why, Margaret ...’ she began vaguely. Margaret smiled and came forward to kiss her. ‘Get out!’ cried Emily fiercely, punching her in the chest. ‘She’s _my_ mother!’ ‘Get out!’ shouted all the others. ‘She’s _our_ mother!’ Margaret fell back again into the shadows: and Mrs. Thornton was too distracted to be as shocked as she would normally have been. Mr. Thornton, however, was just sane enough to take in the situation. ‘Come on, Margaret!’ he said. ‘Margaret’s _my_ pal! Let’s go and look for a cab!’ He took the girl’s arm, bowing his fine shoulders, and walked off with her up the platform. They found a cab, and brought it to the scene, and they all got in, Mrs. Thornton just remembering to say ‘How-d’you-do-good-bye’ to Miss Dawson. Packing themselves inside was difficult. It was in the middle of it all that Mrs. Thornton suddenly exclaimed: ‘But where’s John?’ The children fell immediately silent. ‘Where is he?--Wasn’t he on the train with you?’ ‘No,’ said Emily, and went as dumb as the rest. Mrs. Thornton looked from one of them to another. ‘John! Where is John?’ she asked the world at large, a faint hint of uneasiness beginning to tinge her voice. It was then that Miss Dawson showed a puzzled face at the window. ‘_John?_’ she asked. ‘Why, who is John?’ iii The children passed the spring at the house their father had taken in Hammersmith Terrace, on the borders of Chiswick: but Captain Jonsen, Otto, and the crew passed it in Newgate. They were taken there as soon as the gunboat which apprehended them reached the Thames.