As the clock in the lower hall stopped striking twelve, Jean reached for the thread fastened to her pillow by a pin, and gave it several quick uneven jerks. The spool rattling in the tin box sounded like the mysterious rappings at which Ada had turned up her nose. To hear it thus in the dead of night was a different matter to Ada.
"Jean!" she called, in a hoarse stage-whisper. "Jean! Did you hear that? What do you suppose it is?"
Jean gave the thread another tweak, and then answered, in the same loud whisper, "It sounds to me as if something was trying to spell your name by tapping. It comes from under your bed, but then of course you don't believe in such things. It may be a warning."
"I wish I dared put my foot out of bed," said Ada, her teeth chattering. "I'd get up and make a light. You do it, Jean. I'd do that much for you if the noise was under your bed."
"Sh!" warned Jean. "I believe something is really calling you. It's certainly spelling your name. Now count. One knock--that is A. One, two, three, four--D. One again--A. Yes, that spelled Ada. Now it's beginning again. One, two, three, four--D. One--A." The knocks followed in rapid succession until Ada, realizing that they were going all the way to Y, was almost paralyzed with terror.
"Oh, Jean!" she wailed. "Stop it! Stop it! Get up and make a light, or call the matron, or something! I can't stand it a minute longer! I'll be a gibbering idiot if you don't stop that awful knocking!"
Jean still continued to jerk the thread, till she heard Ada spring up desperately as if to jump out of bed. Then she said, "Oh, do be still, Ada Day. It's nothing but a spool in a tin box. See! I'll strike a match and show you. I was only playing a trick on you because you boasted nothing could frighten you. Don't rouse the house, for mercy's sake."
It took much time and much pleading on Jean's part to convince Ada that there was really no spirit under her bed, and then it took more time and pleading to appease her anger. The sound of voices and the striking of a match aroused the matron. She lay for a moment, wondering what was the matter; then, thinking that some one might be ill and in need of her services, she got up, slipped on a warm bathrobe and her felt bedroom slippers, and stepped out into the hall to investigate.