dent when I arrive home?"

The worthy Lord Mayor got no further either in his remarks or in
removing his bright robes, for as they approached the position occupied
by the Pleasant-Faced Lion, Sir Simon became aware of another figure
standing menacingly in front of it.

A short, thick-set man in a sailor's dress was holding his hands to his
head, and regarding the Lion with his mouth and eyes wide open, whilst
an expression of horrified wonder and astonishment appeared to have
petrified his face into a sort of ghastly mask of perpetual
astonishment.

Whilst the sailor continued to stare and mutter, the Lion's eyes could
be seen to shoot out the most brilliant green fires; they looked like
the flashing of two wonderful green emeralds.

The Lord Mayor quickened his pace almost to a run. "Look, look! what's
the thing that man is flourishing about in his hand?"

"It's a big sailor's knife," replied the Writer uneasily.

"Quick, quick!" shouted the Lord Mayor, "he is going to do Lal some
harm with it! Good heavens! he's swarmed up the pedestal and he is
positively contemplating cutting Lal's eyes out. Stop, you villain,"
shouted the Lord Mayor, whilst he ran towards the spot. "Come down at
once; how dare you touch that beautiful Lion's eyes!"

Without so much as turning his head, and apparently heedless of any
remarks addressed to him, the sailor continued to flourish his
ugly-looking knife, shouting meanwhile in the Lion's face as he did so--

"Emeralds, bloomin' emeralds here in London under my very nose. I'll
'ave 'em out," yelled the sailor. "I'll have 'em out in no time. I've
come from Hindia, where they've got jools like these 'ere in the
hidols' eyes. I couldn't get at them there, but I can get these 'ere,"
whereupon the sailor made a frantic jab with his knife at the
Pleasant-Faced Lion's right eye.

He had no time, or indeed any opportunity of continuing his unpleasant
execution, for the enraged Lord Mayor had seized the wide ends of the
sailor's trousers and had dragged him down with such abruptness and
goodwill that the over-venturesome son of Neptune, dropping his knife,
lay upon the ground volunteering expressions which at least had the
merit of showing that his travels must have been indeed varied and
extensive to have left him in possession of such a widely stocked
vocabulary.

"I'll have you up for attempting to mutilate the beautiful statues of
London," shouted the enraged Lord Mayor.

T