After about ten minutes, the tension of Squiffy’s attitude relaxed.  His heart, which had seemed to suspend its operations, began beating again.  Reason reasserted itself.  He peeped cautiously under the bed.  He could see nothing.

Squiffy was convinced.  He told himself that he had never really believed in Peter as a living thing.  It stood to reason that there couldn’t really be a snake in his room.  The window looked out on emptiness.  His room was several stories above the ground.  There was a stern, set expression on Squiffy’s face as he climbed out of bed.  It was the expression of a man who is turning over a new leaf, starting a new life.  He looked about the room for some implement which would carry out the deed he had to do, and finally pulled out one of the curtain-rods.  Using this as a lever, he broke open the topmost of the six cases which stood in the corner.  The soft wood cracked and split.  Squiffy drew out a straw-covered bottle.  For a moment he stood looking at it, as a man might gaze at a friend on the point of death.  Then, with a sudden determination, he went into the bathroom.  There was a crash of glass and a gurgling sound.

Half an hour later the telephone in Archie’s room rang.  “I say, Archie, old top,” said the voice of Squiffy.

“Halloa, old bean!  Is that you?”

“I say, could you pop down here for a second?  I’m rather upset.”

“Absolutely!  Which room?”

“Four-forty-one.”

“I’ll be with you eftsoons or right speedily.”

“Thanks, old man.”

“What appears to be the difficulty?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I thought I saw a snake!”

“A snake!”

“I’ll tell you all about it when you come down.”

Archie found Lord Seacliff seated on his bed.  An arresting aroma of mixed drinks pervaded the atmosphere.

“I say!  What?” said Archie, inhaling.

“That’s all right.  I’ve been pouring my stock away.  Just finished the last bottle.”

“But why?”

“I told you.  I thought I saw a snake!”

“Green?”

Squiffy shivered slightly.

“Frightfully green!”

Archie hesitated.  He perceived that there are moments when silence is the best policy.  He had been worrying himself over the unfortunate case of his friend, and now that Fate seemed to have provided a solution, it would be rash to interfere merely to ease the old bean’s mind.  If Squiffy was going to reform because he thought he had seen an imaginary snake, better not to let him know that the snake was a real one.

“Dashed serious!” he said.

“Bally dashed serious!” agreed Squiffy.  “I’m going to cut it out!”

“Great scheme!”

“You don’t think,” asked Squiffy, with a touch of hopefulness, “that it could have been a real snake?”

“Never heard of the management supplying them.”

“I thought it went under the bed.”