probability of the picture having been removed. That he should have
to get two, at least, of the pieces of moulding away, before he could
hope to remove the picture, was to him quite apparent, and he was
considering how he should accomplish such a result, when he was suddenly
startled by a knock at his chamber door.

Until that sudden demand for admission at his door came, he scarcely
knew to what a nervous state he had worked himself up. It was an odd
sort of tap--one only--a single tap, as if some one demanded admittance,
and wished to awaken his attention with the least possible chance of
disturbing any one else.

"Come in," said Charles, for he knew he had not fastened his door; "come
in."

There was no reply, but after a moment's pause, the same sort of low tap
came again.

Again he cried "come in," but, whoever it was, seemed determined that
the door should be opened for him, and no movement was made from the
outside. A third time the tap came, and Charles was very close to the
door when he heard it, for with a noiseless step he had approached it
intending to open it. The instant this third mysterious demand for
admission came, he did open it wide. There was no one there! In an
instant he crossed the threshold into the corridor, which ran right and
left. A window at one end of it now sent in the moon's rays, so that it
was tolerably light, but he could see no one. Indeed, to look for any
one, he felt sure was needless, for he had opened his chamber-door
almost simultaneously with the last knock for admission.

"It is strange," he said, as he lingered on the threshold of his room
door for some moments; "my imagination could not so completely deceive
me. There was most certainly a demand for admission."

Slowly, then, he returned to his room again, and closed the door behind
him.

"One thing is evident," he said, "that if I am in this apartment to be
subjected to these annoyances, I shall get no rest, which will soon
exhaust me."

This thought was a very provoking one, and the more he thought that he
should ultimately find a necessity for giving up that chamber he had
himself asked as a special favour to be allowed to occupy, the more
vexed he became to think what construction might be put upon his conduct
for so doing.

"They will all fancy me a coward," he thought, "and that I dare not
sleep here. They may not, of course, say so, but they will think that my
appearing so bold was one of those acts of br