With this he kicked the worthy citizen, who retaliated by suddenly regaining power of speech, and calling loudly for aid. Then the pilot-fish came in sight again. "Nab his ticker!" he yelled. "No, no; let him go!" The woman leapt down, and held them both at bay. "Go," she cried. "Go--the police!" At which Respectability breathed a heartfelt "Amen." "Slit 'is bloomin' whistle," said the small boy, who was as uncompromising as he was impolite. He made off followed by the shark. The worthy member of society, assisted by the woman, scrambled to his feet. Then the gloom suddenly became illumined by the rays from a lantern--an unmistakably official lantern. "Hullo, wot's all this?" "Constable!" gasped the rescued one, "constable, I have been violently assaulted, and robbed of----" "No, not robbed," interrupted the woman called Miriam, pointing to his chain. "Oh, it's _your_ little game, is it?" said the one having authority, bringing his light to bear upon her. "Let's 'ave a look at you--a bad lot 'less I'm much mistaken. Better give 'er in charge, sir." "No, no, my man, on the contrary, I am very much indebted to this good lady!" "Lady, lady! Oh, yes, she's a real lady, she is, an' no mistake." "At all events, officer, to her intervention I owe my life, so it will be well if you refrain from alluding to her in that way." The woman ignored the policeman, and turned to the man she had saved. "I must leave you now," she said calmly. "The constable will no doubt see you safely home--for a consideration." X103 scowled. He did not like things put thus brutally. He was a trifle subdued too by the elderly gentleman's attitude, which despite his deplorable plight had not been devoid of pomposity, not to say dignity. He felt he was a little bit out of his beat. It was quite right that he should see the gentleman safely on his way home--it was more than probable, too, that he would be offered a suitable reward for so doing. It would not be for him to refuse such reward, no matter what form it might take. So mused X103. He still continued to direct his bull's-eye toward the woman. He could see her face clearly, so could the elderly gentleman, who, he had been quick to notice, wore a fur coat. It was a queer affair. The woman winced under his scrutiny. "Red 'air, black eyes!" muttered the constable. "I'll swear she's a bad 'un."