“The injured constable,” read Mrs. Pinner, glibly, “is still going on satisfactory, and the public-houses are still being watched.” “They do seem fond o’ them public-houses,” remarked Mr. Pinner, impatiently. “I’m glad the chap’s getting on all right, but I ’ope ’e won’t be about afore I get to sea again.” “I shouldn’t think he would,” said his wife. “I’d better go out and get the wall-paper, ’adn’t I? What colour would you like?” Mr. Pinner said that all wall-papers were alike to him, and indulged in dreary speculations as to where the money was to come from. Mrs. Pinner, who knew that they were saving fast owing to his enforced seclusion, smiled at his misgivings. He papered the room that day, after a few choice observations on the price of wall-paper, and expressed his opinion that in a properly governed country the birth of red-whiskered policemen would be rendered an impossibility. To the compliments on his workmanship bestowed by the gratified Mrs. Pinner he turned a deaf ear. There was nothing in the paper next morning, Mrs. Pinner’s invention being somewhat fatigued, but she promptly quelled her husband’s joy by suggesting that the police authorities were lying low in the hope of lulling him into a sense of false security. She drew such an amusing picture of the police searching streets and public-houses, while Mr. Pinner was blithely making a perambulator indoors, that she was fain to wipe the tears of merriment from her eyes, while Mr. Pinner sat regarding her in indignant astonishment. It was no source of gratification to Mr. Pinner to find that the other ladies in the house were holding him up as a pattern to their husbands, and trying to incite those reluctant gentlemen to follow in his footsteps. Mrs. Smith, of the first floor, praised him in terms which made him blush with shame, and Mrs. Hawk, of the second, was so complimentary that Mr. Hawk, who had not long been married, came downstairs and gave him a pressing invitation to step out into the back yard. By the time the perambulator was finished his patience was at an end, and he determined at all hazards to regain his liberty. Never had the street as surveyed from the small window appeared so inviting. He filled his pipe and communicated to the affrighted Mrs. Pinner his intention of going for a stroll. “Wait till I’ve seen the paper,” she protested. “Wot’s the good of seeing the paper?” replied Mr. Pinner. “We know as ’e’s in bed, and it seems to me while ’e’s in bed is my time to be out. I shall keep a look-out. Besides, I’ve just ’ad an idea; I’m going to shave my moustache off. I ought to ha’ thought of it before.”