About eight o'clock
For the sixth time the letter was written and despatched at the moment the footsteps were coming down the street . Once more the tiny animal crawled into the pipe , and once more the message disappeared upon its journey . Another day was spent in anxious waiting , but this time we were not destined to be disappointed . About eight o'clock that night , just as we were giving up hope , I detected a faint noise near my feet ; it was for all the world as if some one were forcing a stick through a hole in a brick wall . I informed Beckenham of the fact in a whisper , and then put my head down to listen . Yes , there was the sound again . Oh , if only I had a match !