A large squad of policemen, a perfect regiment of policemen, was moving across the north side of the square in the direction of the Institute. Nothing could have seemed more reassuring, less harmful, than that band of policemen, off duty for the afternoon and collected together for the purpose of giving a hearty and policemanly welcome to their benefactress the Countess. But the mule had his own views about policemen. In the early days of Denry’s ownership of him, he had nearly always shied at the spectacle of a policeman. He would tolerate steam-rollers, and even falling kites, but a policeman had ever been antipathetic to him. Denry by patience and punishment had gradually brought him round almost to the Countess’s view of policemen—namely, that they were a courteous and trustworthy body of public servants, not to be treated as scarecrows or the dregs of society. At any rate, the mule had of late months practically ceased to set his face against the policing of the Five Towns. And when he was on his best behaviour he would ignore a policeman completely. But there were several hundreds of policemen in that squad, the majority of all the policemen in the Five Towns. And clearly the mule considered that Denry, in confronting him with several hundred policemen simultaneously, had been presuming upon his good nature. The mule’s ears were saying agitatedly: "A line must be drawn somewhere, and I have drawn it where my forefeet now are." The mule’s ears soon drew together a little crowd. It occurred to Denry that if mules were so wonderful in the Apennines the reason must be that there are no policemen in the Apennines. It also occurred to him that something must be done to this mule. "Well?" said the Countess inquiringly. It was a challenge to him to prove that he and not the mule was in charge of the expedition. He briefly explained the mule’s idiosyncrasy, as it were apologising for its bad taste in objecting to public servants whom the Countess cherished. "They ’ll be out of sight in a moment," said the Countess. And both she and Denry tried to look as if the victoria had stopped in that special spot for a special reason and that the mule was a pattern of obedience. Nevertheless, the little crowd was growing a little larger. "Now," said the Countess encouragingly. The tail of the regiment of policemen had vanished towards the Institute. "Tchk! Tchk!" Denry persuaded the mule. No response from those forefeet! "Perhaps I ’d better get out and walk," the Countess suggested. The crowd was becoming inconvenient and had even begun to offer unsolicited hints as to the proper management of mules. The crowd was also saying to itself, "It’s her! It’s her! It’s her!" Meaning that it was the Countess. "Oh, no!" said Denry. "It’s all right." And he caught the mule "one" over the head with his whip.