“I warn you,” said Berry, “that I may break down.  My return to the haunts of early innocence may be too much for me.  Yes,” he added, “I shouldn’t be at all surprised if I were to beat my breast somewhere near The Martyrs’ Memorial.”

“An appropriate locality,” said Jonah.  “If my memory serves me, it was for a crime committed almost under the shadow of that monument that you were irrevocably sent down.”

Berry selected a cigar before replying.  Then—­

“Only a malignant reptile would refer to that miscarriage of justice.  It was not my fault that the animal which I employed exceeded its instructions and, as it were, pushed on after attaining its objective.”

“You expected it to consolidate the position?” said I.

“Precisely.  To dig itself in.  It was like this.  It was expedient—­no matter why—­that a large boar should be introduced into Balliol College shortly before 10 p.m.  A gigantic specimen was accordingly procured and brought to the Broad Street entrance in a hansom cab.  It was then induced to take up a position commanding the wicket-door.  The juxtaposition of two hurdles, held in place by my subordinates, frustrated any attempt at untimely evacuation.  At a given signal the customary kick was administered to the gate, indicating that some person or persons sought admission to the foundation.  Unhesitatingly the porter responded to the summons.  The wicket was opened, and the pig passed in.”

“I think it was very cruel,” said Daphne.

“Not at all,” said her husband.  “There was more succulent grass upon the lawns of Balliol than was dreamt of in its ferocity.  To continue.  My mission accomplished, I entered the hansom and drove to the Club.  It was during an unfortunate altercation with the cabman, who demanded an unreasonably exorbitant sum for the conveyance of the pig, that I was accosted by a proctor for being gownless.  The cab was still redolent of its late occupant, and, although nothing was said at the time, it was this which afterwards led the authorities to suspect my complicity.  Even so, nothing would have been said but for a most distressing development.

“I had expected that the pig would confine its attention to the quadrangles and gardens and to startling such members of the college as happened casually to encounter it.  Fate, however, decreed otherwise.  It appears that the creature’s admission coincided with the opening of a door which led directly into the Senior Common Room, where the Master and Fellows were still discussing classical criticism and some ’34 port.  Attracted by the shaft of light and the mellow atmosphere of good cheer and hilarity which streamed into the comparative gloom of the quadrangle, the pig made a bee-line for the doorway, and a moment later the exclusive circle was enriched by the presence of this simple and unaffected guest.  The details of what followed have never transpired, but from the Senior Proctor’s demeanour at a subsequent interview, and the amount of the bill for damage which I was requested to pay, I am inclined to think that the pig must have been a confirmed Bolshevist.”