Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door.
He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass.
"I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good gracious!"
"Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr. Grummit, stopping short.
The constable stared at him. "She has been knocking you about," he gasped. "Why, it must ha' been you screaming, then! I thought it sounded loud. Why don't you go and get a summons and have her locked up? I should be pleased to take her."
Mr. Grummit faced him, quivering with passion. "Wot would it cost if I set about you?" he demanded, huskily.
"Two months," said Mr. Evans, smiling serenely; "p'r'aps three."
Mr. Grummit hesitated and his fists clenched nervously. The constable, lounging against his door-post, surveyed him with a dispassionate smile. "That would be besides what you'd get from me," he said, softly.
"Come out in the road," said Mr. Grummit, with sudden violence.
"It's agin the rules," said Mr. Evans; "sorry I can't. Why not go and ask your wife's brother to oblige you?"