m the upstairs windows.
He climbed the steps and unlatched the door with bated breath. It was
half-past eleven, and he wondered how long he would have to wait for
the well-wisher to descend.

He could not help chuckling as he made his preparations, remembering an
occasion at college somewhat similar in setting though far less serious
in purpose. First he took off his shoes, laying them carefully to one
side where he could find them again in a hurry. Then, choosing a
banister about six feet from the bottom of the stairs he attached one
end of the wire tightly to its base and spread the slack in a large
loop over two of the stair treads. The remaining end of the wire he
passed out through the banisters, twisting it into a small loop so that
he could pull it easily. Then he turned out the hall gas and sat down
in the dark to wait events.

He sat for a long time, in some nervousness lest the pug dog might come
prowling and find him. He was startled by a lady in a dressing
gown--perhaps Mrs. J. F. Smith--who emerged from a ground-floor room
passed very close to him in the dark, and muttered upstairs. He
twitched his noose out of the way just in time. Presently, however,
his patience was rewarded. He heard a door squeak above, and then the
groaning of the staircase as someone descended slowly. He relaid his
trap and waited, smiling to himself. A clock somewhere in the house
was chiming twelve as the man came groping down the last flight,
feeling his way in the dark. Aubrey heard him swearing under his
breath.

At the precise moment, when both his victim's feet were within the
loop, Aubrey gave the wire a gigantic tug. The man fell like a safe,
crashing against the banisters and landing in a sprawl on the floor.
It was a terrific fall, and shook the house. He lay there groaning and
cursing.

Barely retaining his laughter, Aubrey struck a match and held it over
the sprawling figure. The man lay with his face twisted against one
out-spread arm, but the beard was unmistakable. It was the assistant
chef again, and he seemed partly unconscious. "Burnt hair is a grand
restorative," said Aubrey to himself, and applied the match to the bush
of beard. He singed off a couple of inches of it with intense delight,
and laid his carnations on the head of the stricken one. Then, hearing
stirrings in the basement, he gathered up his wire and shoes and fled
upstairs. He gained his room roaring with inward mirth, but en