y had closed.

Tunwich church chimed the half-hour as they finished, and Mr. Grummit,
forgetting his own injuries, stood smiling at the wreck before him. The
constable's helmet had been smashed and trodden on; his uniform was torn
and covered with blood and dirt, and his good looks marred for a
fortnight at least. He stooped with a groan, and, recovering his helmet,
tried mechanically to punch it into shape. He stuck the battered relic
on his head, and Mr. Grummit fell back--awed, despite himself.

"It was a fair fight," he stammered.

The constable waved him away. "Get out o' my sight before I change my
mind," he said, fiercely; "and mind, if you say a word about this it'll
be the worse for you."

"Do you think I've gone mad?" said the other. He took another look at
his victim and, turning away, danced fantastically along the road home.
The constable, making his way to a gas-lamp, began to inspect damages.

They were worse even than he had thought, and, leaning against the
lamp-post, he sought in vain for an explanation that, in the absence of a
prisoner, would satisfy the inspector. A button which was hanging by a
thread fell tinkling on to the footpath, and he had just picked it up and
placed it in his pocket when a faint distant outcry broke upon his ear.

He turned and walked as rapidly as his condition would permit in the
direction of the noise. It became louder and more imperative, and cries
of "Police!" became distinctly audible. He quickened into a run, and
turning a corner beheld a little knot of people standing at the gate of a
large house. Other people only partially clad were hastening to-wards
them. The constable arrived out of breath.

"Better late than never," said the owner of the house, sarcastically.

Mr. Evans, breathing painfully, supported himself with his hand on the
fence.

"They went that way, but I suppose you didn't see them," continued the
householder. "Halloa!" he added, as somebody opened the hall door and
the constable's damaged condition became visible in the gas-light. "Are
you hurt?"

"Yes," said Mr. Evans, who was trying hard to think clearly. To gain
time he blew a loud call on his whistle.

"The rascals!" continued the other. "I think I should know the big chap
with a beard again, but the others were too quick for me."

Mr. Evans blew his whistle again--thoughtfully. The opportunity seemed
too good to lose.

"Did they get anything?" he inquired.

"Not