Most of the others followed suit, and made a bonfire in the empty grate with the originals of their essays. The fair copies they placed inside their desks. Hilary put hers away with the short stories she had written, and, happening to be in a rather communicative mood, she confided the secret of these literary efforts to Stuart. Stuart was much impressed. "Why don't you try to publish them?" she asked. "Well, I would if I could," admitted Hilary. "I saw a little bit in the end of the _Blue Magazine_ saying that the editor would be glad to consider contributions." "Oh, did you? Where is it?" "I'll find it for you." Stuart hunted up the magazine, found the paragraph in question, and tendered good advice. "I'd certainly send them if I were you. Why shouldn't you try as well as anybody else? They might be accepted. Just think of having a story in a magazine! I'd die of swelled head if it were mine." "I suppose there's no harm in trying," fluttered Hilary. "It would be a joke to see one's own story in print." "Send some of them off to-day." "Shall I?" "Why not?" "I don't know which to choose." "Oh, any of them!" Thus urged, Hilary drew three of her manuscripts at a venture, put them inside a long envelope, wrote a short note offering them to the editor, enclosed it, fastened, addressed, and stamped her letter, and placed it in the post-box in the hall. "What fun if you have some luck!" said Stuart. "I drew a tiny little swastika inside the envelope, and I made three crosses over it with my right forefinger," confessed Hilary, "but I don't suppose it's any use; they'll probably come packing back." "Well, if they do you must send them to some other magazine," said Stuart hopefully. Diana felt a little cheered up after reading three chapters of _Ivanhoe_, but she was still angry with Hilary. She felt that she would like to play a trick upon her. It would really serve her right for being so generally disagreeable. There was no need at all for prefects to take advantage of their office and ride roughshod over the intermediates. How could she possibly pay her out and settle the score between them? She pondered for a while, then had a sudden brain-wave and chuckled. First, she ascertained that the senior room was empty, then she paid a surreptitious visit to the pantry and purloined a pepper-pot. Hiding this for safety in her pocket she went back to the senior room, opened Hilary's desk, and put a plentiful sprinkling of pepper inside. "It'll make Hilary just sneeze her head off to-morrow!" triumphed Diana. "She'll think she's got a touch of 'flu', and she'll be in _such_ a scare! I'd give worlds to see the fun. Only, of course, I daren't show myself, or she'll find out. No, that would never do." Putting the pepper-pot back in her pocket, she was in the act of leaving the room, when in the dusk she collided with Geraldine. The astonishment was mutual. "What are you doing here, Diana?" asked the head prefect sharply.