Bill Hollis defensively went on with his bitter. He was consumed with scorn of a person whom he had once respected immensely. She was found out, the shallow fool, fringe and back hair included! When he came to the end of the pint, he paused a moment in the midst of the pleasant sensations it had inspired and then decided that he would have another, not because he wanted another, but because he felt that it would annoy this Toplofty Crackpot. The second pint did annoy the T.C., annoyed her obviously; emotionally she was a very obvious lady. But it was odd that Bill Hollis, shaken to the depths by a world catastrophe, should desire a cheap revenge and stoop to gratify it. Perhaps it was a case of multiple personality. There were several Bill Hollises in this moment of destiny. There was the Bill Hollis who gave the defiant order for another pint of bitter, the Bill Hollis who paid for it with truculent coolness, the Bill Hollis who bore it to the window the better to regard the somber stream of fellow citizens flowing steadily in the direction of the Market Place, the Bill Hollis who took a beer-stained copy of the Blackhampton _Tribune_ from a table with a marble top and glanced at the portentous headings of its many columns. And finally there was the Bill Hollis who suddenly heard with a sick thrill that came very near to nausea a footfall heavily familiar and a voice outside in the passage. Could it be...! Could it be that...! There was a look of obvious triumph on the almost unnaturally fair countenance of Miss Searson. In her grim eyes was "I told you so!" The ex-barman, in the peril of the moment, glanced hastily around, but the eyes of Miss Searson assured him that he was a rat and that he was caught in a trap. Moreover they assured him that if ever rat deserved a fate so ignominious, William Hollis was the name of that rodent. And the loathsome animal had time to recall before that voice and those footsteps were able to enter the private bar that sixteen years ago Miss Searson had been the witness of a certain incident. And if her warlike bearing meant anything she was now looking for a repetition, with modern improvements and variations. Escape was impossible, that was clear. And on the strength of a fact so obvious all the various kinds of Bill Hollises promptly came together and decided to hand over the body politic to the only Bill Hollis who could hope to deal with the crisis. This was the Bill Hollis who had had a pint and a half of his father-in-law's excellent bitter and felt immeasurably the better for it. As a measure of precaution this Bill Hollis spread wide the _Tribune_ and by taking cover behind it greatly reassured his brethren. None of the others would have had the wit to think of that. Even as it was only a pint and a half of a very choice brew enabled the device to be put coolly and quietly into practice.