Also (after some trouble) that no exception should be made to the foregoing stipulation, even in the event of Mr. Cripps feeling it necessary to go out somewhere to study a brick wall (or the hole in it) from nature. Nor even if he felt overcome by the smell of paint. Agreed, however: that an exception be granted in the event of the house being on fire. Further: this with more trouble: that one pot of beer before dinner is enough for any man seriously bent on the pursuit of art. Moreover: that the board must not be painted white again. Lastly: that the period of invention and meditation be considered at an end; and that sleep on Mr. Cripps's part be regarded as an acknowledgment that meals are over for the day. These articles being at length agreed and confirmed, and Mr. Cripps having been duly witnessed to make certain marks with charcoal on the white board, as a guarantee of good faith, Grandfather Nat and I set out for the Minories. His moodiness notwithstanding, it was part of his new habit to keep me near him as much as possible, day and night, with a sort of wistful jealousy. So we walked hand in hand over the swing bridge, past Paddy's Goose, into the Highway, and on through that same pageant of romance and squalor. The tradesmen at their doors saluted Grandfather Nat with a subdued regard, as I had observed most people to do since the news of _Juno's_ wreck. Indeed that disaster was very freely spoken of, all along the waterside, as a deliberate scuttling, and it was felt that Captain Nat could lay his bereavement to something worse than the fair chance of the seas. Such things were a part of the daily talk by the Docks, and here all the familiar features were present; while it was especially noted that nothing had been seen of Viney since the news came. He meant to lie safe, said the gossips; since, as a bankrupt, he stood to gain nothing by the insurance. One tradesman alone, a publican just beyond Blue Gate, greeted my grandfather noisily, but he was thoughtless with the pride of commercial achievement. For he was enlarging his bar, a large one already, by the demolition of the adjoining shop, and he was anxious to exhibit and explain his designs. "Why, good mornin', Cap'en," cried the publican, from amid scaffold poles and brick-dust. "You're a stranger lately. See what I'm doin'? Here: come in here an' look. How's this, eh? Another pair o' doors just over there, an' the bar brought round like so, an' that for Bottle an' Jug, and throw the rest into Public Bar. Eh?" The party wall had already been removed, and the structure above rested on baulks and beams. The bar was screened off now from the place of its enlargement by nothing but canvas and tarpaulin, and my grandfather and his acquaintance stood with their backs to this, to survey the work of the builders.