he body, and the rights of the individual man to be heard in
his own defence. If your lunatic were not too insane, and were to take
refuge in a friend's house, and the friend were to back him, that would
make things more difficult still."

"If he were to take refuge in his own house?"

"Oh, that would make the thing still more difficult, very much more so.
If, of course, he were not conducting himself in a manner detrimental to
the public peace, firing guns out of windows and so forth. The laws of
England are very strict about entering a man's house. Of course, were
the pursuers to go before a magistrate and swear that the pursued were a
dangerous lunatic, then a right of search and entry might be obtained,
but on the pursuers would lie the onus of proof. Now pauper lunatics are
very easily dealt with: the Relieving Officer, on the strength of a
certificate of lunacy, can go to the poor man's cottage or tenement, and
take him away, for, you see, the man possessing no property it is
supposed that no man is interested in his internment, but once
introduce the property element and there is the very devil to pay,
especially in cases where the lunatic is only eccentric and does not
come into court with straws in his hair, so to speak."

"I get you," said Jones. He offered cigarettes, and presently the
communicative one departed, having borrowed fourpence on the strength of
his professional advice.

The rest of that night was a very good imitation of a nightmare. Jones
tried several different seats in succession, and managed to do a good
deal of walking. Dawn found him on London Bridge, watching the birth of
another perfect day, but without enthusiasm.

He was cheerful but tired. The thought that at nine o'clock or
thereabouts, he would be able to place his hands on eight thousand
pounds, gave him the material for his cheerfulness. He had often read of
the joy of open air life, and the freedom of the hobo; but open air life
in London, on looking back upon it, did not appeal to him. He had been
twice moved on by policemen, and his next door neighbours, after the
departure of the barometer man, were of a type that inspired neither
liking nor trust.

He heard Big Ben booming six o'clock. He had three hours still before
him, and he determined to take it out in walking. He would go citywards,
and then come back with an appetite for breakfast.

Having made this resolve, he started, passing through the deserted
streets till