wing of the College. At that time, be it remembered, a
large proportion of K. undergrads were in residence--now it is
otherwise. On reaching Brady's rooms the crowd halted outside and
listened. For some time there was silence; and then a laugh--low,
monotonous, unmirthful, metallic--coming as it were from some adjacent
chamber, and so unnatural, so abhorring, that it held everyone
spell-bound. It died away in the reverberations of the stone corridor,
its echoes seeming to awake a chorus of other laughs hardly less
dreadful. Again there was silence, no one daring to express his
thoughts. Then, as if by common consent, all turned precipitately into
Brady's room and slammed the door.

"'That is what I heard,' Brady said. 'What does it mean?'

"'Is it the meaning of it you're wanting to know?' Maguire observed.
'Sure 'tis the devil, for no one but him could make such a noise. I've
never heard the like of it before. Who has the rooms on either side of
you?'

"'These?' Brady replied, pointing to the right. 'No one. They were
vacated at Easter, and are being repainted and decorated. These on the
left--Dobson, who is, I happen to know, at the present moment in Co.
Mayo. He won't be back till next week.'

"'Then we can search them,' a student called Hartnoll intervened.

"'To be sure we can,' Brady replied, 'but I doubt if you'll find
anyone.'

"A search was made, and Brady proved to be correct. Not a vestige of
anyone was discovered.

"Much mystified, Maguire's party was preparing to depart, when Hartnoll,
who had taken the keenest interest in the proceedings, suddenly said,
'Who has the rooms over yours, Brady? Sound, as you know, plays curious
tricks, and it is just as likely as not that laugh came from above.'

"'Oh, I don't think so,' Brady answered. 'The man overhead is Belton, a
very decent sort. He is going in for his finals shortly, and is sweating
fearfully hard at present. We might certainly ask him if he heard the
noise.'

"The students agreeing, Brady led the way upstairs, and in response to
their summons Belton hastily opened the door. He was a typical
book-worm--thin, pale and rather emaciated, but with a pleasant
expression in his eyes and mouth, that all felt was assuring.

"'Hulloa!' he exclaimed, 'it isn't often I'm favoured with a surprise
party of this sort. Come in'; and he pressed them so hard that they felt
constrained to accept his hospitality, and before long were all seated
round the fire,