expostulation--what would these jubilant revellers care for a
poor new man like him!--and he had nowhere else to go to escape them
there was nothing for it but to be patient. In due time the victorious
and unsuspecting Bailey, accompanied by four of his friends, appeared on
the scene, and their approach was the immediate signal for action. With
a cheer and a howl the ambush sprang upon their victims; and, with equal
vehemence, these, having rapidly taken in the state of affairs, prepared
to defend themselves. Poor George might as well have been sitting under
Niagara. Step by step, the new-comers strove to force a passage up to
Bailey's rooms, and step by step the opposing force strove to repulse
them. The balustrades creaked, the ceiling of George's room quaked, and
the walls thundered with the weight of conflicting bodies. The
occupants of every room on the staircase turned out to see the fun, and
on hearing of Bailey's contumacy, joined with his persecutors in
refusing him the shelter of his own sanctuary. Bailey's party, on the
other hand, was joined by reinforcements from without, who stormed up
the stairs with the noise of an earthquake. The opposing forces soon
became so great that the press of battle raged even to the door of
George's study, which creaked and rattled as if every moment it were
about to yield and admit the whole tide of conflict.

For half an hour the tumult roared and the battle swayed, and neither
party gained nor yielded a foot.

Then suddenly from the confines of the battle rose and spread a cry of
"Cave canem!" on which, as if by magic, the action was suspended, and
retreating footsteps betokened a panic. A rally was sounded by Bailey's
foes, but too late; the hero of the day had taken advantage of the
momentary pause to dash past his persecutors and gain his study, and
once there no force could dislodge him. The vanquished ones stormed and
raged outside his door for another ten minutes, threatening all sorts of
vengeance; then with three mighty cheers they struck camp and retired,
leaving the staircase in peace.

Thus ended the famous battle of Bailey's Staircase, at the end of which
George, with sunken spirits but indomitable resolution, sat down again
to work.

For half an hour he made good progress, without let or hindrance, when--
ah, cruel fate!--a wretch calling himself a man, in a neighbouring
apartment, began to practise on the ophicleide! At the first note
George bou