In no part of the city were matters quite so bad as in the vicinity of Catchpole Square, North district, where, an hour after midnight, Constable Pond was cautiously feeling his way towards the border-line of his beat, hoping there to meet with human companionship in the person of Constable Applebee, who, himself animated by a similar hope in respect of Constable Pond, was advancing from an opposite direction. On this miserable night one crumb of comfort--oh, but it was more than a crumb; it might have been called a whole loaf--had fallen to the share of Constable Pond. He had not thought it likely that his wife would have ventured from the house, nor, lonely as he was, did he wish it; but when, an hour or so before midnight, he heard the familiar bird-call, he joyfully responded. "Why, Polly, Polly!" he exclaimed, passing his arm around her. "My senses don't deceive me, do they?" "I hope they don't," said Polly, drawing his arm tighter. "You wouldn't do this to another woman, I'm sure of that." "You may be, Polly, you may be. Not to Queen Victoria herself with her gold crown on. Well, this _is_ a surprise! Such a surprise, Polly, as makes up for all." He gave her a great hug. He did not consider the regulations--not he! "I'm afraid it's cold," said Polly, putting the bottle of coffee into his hand, and paying good interest for the hug. "It was boiling hot when I started." "What a brick you are!" said Constable Pond, extracting the cork with his teeth, and applying himself to the refreshment. "It's ever so much better than three-star. Here, take a pull yourself." She did. "Polly, you're a angel!" She laughed, but did not dispute it, and they remained a short time in fond dalliance. A strange hour for Cupid's pranks, but that urchin has no conscience. Polly proposed to walk the beat with her husband all through the night, but this was such an alarming infringement of the regulations that he would not listen to it. So he escorted her to the end of his beat, and would have escorted her farther, but _she_ would not listen to that. "Can you find your way home?" he asked, in doubt. "Blindfold," she answered promptly. "You may as well have the empty bottle," he said. "Hold it by the neck, and if anybody comes up to you give him a crack on the head with it. Another kiss, Polly!"