The occupants of every room on the staircase turned out to see the fun, and on hearing of Bailey's contumacy, joined with his persecutors in refusing him the shelter of his own sanctuary.

Bailey's party, on the other hand, was joined by reinforcements from without, who stormed up the stairs with the noise of an earthquake.

The opposing forces soon became so great that the press of battle raged even to the door of George's study, which creaked and rattled as if every moment it were about to yield and admit the whole tide of conflict.
For half an hour the tumult roared and the battle swayed, and neither party gained nor yielded a foot.
Then suddenly from the confines of the battle rose and spread a cry of "Cave canem!" on which, as if by magic, the action was suspended, and retreating footsteps betokened a panic.

A rally was sounded by Bailey's foes, but too late; the hero of the day had taken advantage of the momentary pause to dash past his persecutors and gain his study, and once there no force could dislodge him.

The vanquished ones stormed and raged outside his door for another ten minutes, threatening all sorts of vengeance; then with three mighty cheers they struck camp and retired, leaving the staircase in peace.
Thus ended the famous battle of Bailey's Staircase, at the end of which George, with sunken spirits but indomitable resolution, sat down again to work.
For half an hour he made good progress, without let or hindrance, when-- ah, cruel fate!--a wretch calling himself a man, in a neighbouring apartment, began to practise on the ophicleide! At the first note George bounded from his seat as if he had been shot, and literally tore his hair.