Jellicoe, that human encyclopedia, consulted on the probable movements
of the enemy, deposed that Spiller, retiring at ten, would make for
Dormitory One in the same passage, where Robinson also had a bed. The
rest of the opposing forces were distributed among other and more
distant rooms. It was probable, therefore, that Dormitory One would be
the rendezvous. As to the time when an attack might be expected, it was
unlikely that it would occur before half past eleven. Mr. Outwood went
the round of the dormitories at eleven.
"And touching," said Psmith, "the matter of noise, must this business be
conducted in a subdued and _sotto voce_ manner, or may we let ourselves
go a bit here and there?"
"I shouldn't think old Outwood's likely to hear you--he sleeps miles
away on the other side of the house. He never hears anything. We often
rag half the night and nothing happens."
"This appears to be a thoroughly nice, well-conducted establishment.
What would my mother say if she could see her Rupert in the midst of
these reckless youths!"
"All the better," said Mike; "we don't want anybody butting in and
stopping the show before it's half started."
"Comrade Jackson's berserk blood is up--I can hear it sizzling. I quite
agree these things are all very disturbing and painful, but it's as well
to do them thoroughly when one's once in for them. Is there nobody else
who might interfere with our gambols?"
"Barnes might," said Jellicoe, "only he won't."
"Who is Barnes?"
"Head of the house--a rotter. He's in a funk of Stone and Robinson; they
rag him; he'll simply sit tight."
"Then I think," said Psmith placidly, "we may look forward to a very
pleasant evening. Shall we be moving?"
Mr. Outwood paid his visit at eleven, as predicted by Jellicoe, beaming
vaguely into the darkness over a torch, and disappeared again,
closing the door.
"How about that door?" said Mike. "Shall we leave it open for them?"
"Not so, but far otherwise. If it's shut we shall hear them at it when
they come. Subject to your approval, Comrade Jackson, I have evolved the
following plan of action. I always ask myself on these occasions, 'What
would Napoleon have done?' I think Napoleon would have sat in a chair by
his washhand stand, which is close to the door; he would have posted you
by your washhand stand, and he would have instructed Comrade Jellicoe,
directly he heard the door handle turned, to give his celebrated
imitation of a dormitory breathing heavily in its sleep. He
would then--"
"I tell you what," said Mike, "How about tying a string at the top of
the steps?"
"Yes, Napoleon would have done that, too. Hats off to Comrade Jackson,
the man with the big brain!"
The floor of the dormitory was below the level of the door. There were
three steps leading down to it. Psmith switched on his torch and they
examined the ground. The leg of a wardrobe and the leg of Jellicoe's bed
made it possible for the string to be fastened in a satisfactory manner
across the lower step. Psmith surveyed the result with approval.
"Dashed neat!" he said. "Practically the sunken road which dished the
Cuirassiers at Waterloo. I seem to see Comrade Spiller coming one of the
finest purlers in the world's history."
"If they've got a torch--"
"They won't have. If they have, stand by and grab it at once; then
they'll charge forward and all will be well. If they have no light, fire
into the brown with a jug of water. Lest we forget, I'll collar Comrade
Jellicoe's jug now and keep it handy. A couple of sheets would also not
be amiss--we will enmesh the enemy!"
"Right ho!" said Mike.
"These humane preparations being concluded," said Psmith, "we will
retire to our posts and wait. Comrade Jellicoe, don't forget to breathe
like an asthmatic sheep when you hear the door opened; they may wait at
the top of the steps, listening."
"You _are_ a lad!" said Jellicoe.
Waiting in the dark for something to happen is always a trying
experience, especially if, as on this occasion, silence is essential.
Mike was tired after his journey, and he had begun to doze when he was
jerked back to wakefulness by the stealthy turning of the door handle;
the faintest rustle from Psmith's direction followed, and a slight
giggle, succeeded by a series of deep breaths, showed that Jellicoe,
too, had heard the noise.
There was a creaking sound.
It was pitch-dark in the dormitory, but Mike could follow the invaders'
movements as clearly as if it had been broad daylight. They had opened
the door and were listening. Jellicoe's breathing grew more asthmatic;
he was flinging himself into his part with the wholeheartedness of the
true artist.
The creak was followed by a sound of whispering, then another creak. The
enemy had advanced to the top step.... Another creak.... The vanguard
had reached the second step.... In another moment--