vibrated with indignation.

"And do you seriously mean to tell me that you believe _us_ to be
responsible! Do you blame _us_ because something has gone wrong with
your window-frame, or because the noises in the street disturb you in
the morning? They disturb me too. I can rarely sleep after five
o'clock, but I have certainly never dreamt of blaming you for the fact.
You cannot possibly mean that you think--"

"I do more than think: I am as sure as it is possible to be. It is no
ordinary street noise which wakens me, but something much nearer, and
more jarring. It appears to be immediately outside my window, and it
happens once each morning--and only once--sometimes at five, sometimes
later, sometimes earlier still. With regard to the tapping, it has
never happened before; and so far as I am aware, nothing is wrong with
my window. I believe, as I said before, that both these noises are the
result of intention, not accident."

Philippa looked at him steadily with her bright, dark eyes. "And
suppose," she said quietly--"suppose I tell you in return that you are
entirely mistaken, and that we have nothing to do with either one or the
other. What then? Will you refuse to believe me?"

The two stared at one another in silence, like combatants measuring
strength for a fight. It was the man whose eyes were the first to fall,
the man who first showed signs of relenting.

"Of course, if you give me your word, Miss Charrington, I am bound to
take it."

"Then I give you my word, Mr Neil, that we are absolutely innocent of
annoying you in the way you describe."

The Hermit bowed, laid his hat on the table, and fumbled nervously with
his coat.

"I can only say that the matter is most mysterious and annoying.
Perhaps, however, you will be willing to promise that in other respects
you will be more considerate for the future, so that I may be able to
work with less disturbance from the noise overhead?"

"I am afraid I cannot see my way to giving any such promise, for I fail
to see how we _can_ be quieter without interfering with our own duties.
I have three sisters, and music is the profession by which one of them
hopes to make a living. If she gave up practising it would seriously
injure her prospects. The others are busy all day long, and naturally
wish for a little relaxation at night. Although you give us no credit
for consideration, I may tell you that we are constantly calling our
young brother to order in