I
    In those grey days there was one thought, of the many thatoccupied my mind, which brought with it a certain measure ofconsolation. It was the reflection that this state of affairscould not last for ever. The school term was drawing to a close.

　　Soon I should be free from the propinquity which paralysed myefforts to fight. I was resolved that the last day of term shouldend for ever my connection with Sanstead House and all that was init. Mrs Ford must find some other minion. If her happinessdepended on the recovery of the Little Nugget, she must learn todo without happiness, like the rest of the inhabitants of thishorrible world.

　　Meanwhile, however, I held myself to be still on duty. By whattortuous processes of thought I had arrived at the conclusion I donot know, but I considered myself responsible to Audrey for thesafeguarding of the Little Nugget, and no altered relationsbetween us could affect my position. Perhaps mixed up with thisattitude of mind, was the less altruistic wish to foil Smooth Sam.

　　His continued presence at the school was a challenge to me.

　　Sam's behaviour puzzled me. I do not know exactly what I expectedhim to do, but I certainly did not expect him to do nothing. Yetday followed day, and still he made no move. He was the very modelof a butler. But our dealings with one another in London had leftme vigilant, and his inaction did not disarm me. It sprang frompatience, not from any weakening of purpose or despair of success.

　　Sooner or later I knew he would act, swiftly and suddenly, with aplan perfected in every detail.

　　But when he made his attack it was the very simplicity of hismethods that tricked me, and only pure chance defeated him.

　　I have said that it was the custom of the staff of masters atSanstead House School--in other words, of every male adult in thehouse except Mr Fisher himself--to assemble in Mr Abney's studyafter dinner of an evening to drink coffee. It was a ceremony,like most of the ceremonies at an establishment such as a school,where things are run on a schedule, which knew of no variation.

　　Sometimes Mr Abney would leave us immediately after the ceremony,but he never omitted to take his part in it first.

　　On this particular evening, for the first time since the beginningof the term, I was seized with a prejudice against coffee. I hadbeen sleeping badly for several nights, and I decided thatabstention from coffee might remedy this.

　　I waited, for form's sake, till Glossop and Mr Abney had filledtheir cups, then went to my room, where I lay down in the dark towrestle with a more than usually pronounced fit of depressionwhich had descended upon me. Solitude and darkness struck me asthe suitable setting for my thoughts.

　　At this moment Smooth Sam Fisher had no place in my meditations.

　　My mind was not occupied with him at all. When, therefore, thedoor, which had been ajar, began to open slowly, I did not becomeinstantly on the alert. Perhaps it was some sound, barely audible,that aroused me from my torpor and set my blood tingling withanticipation. Perhaps it was the way the door was opening. Anhonest draught does not move a door furtively, in jerks.