ing about the garden, and rolling in the mud, in his sleep. There
have been no robbers or thieves here to-night. The poor boy fell on the
roof; that was what waked him up; and the noise of his fall was what
caused me to give the alarm."

"Very singular," added uncle Obed.

"I never had any suspicion that he got up in his sleep," said Mr.
Grant.

"There are instances on record of persons addicted to the practice who
have followed it for years, without discovery. Now, if you will come to
my room, I will read you several accounts, given by competent medical
authority, of cases just like this," observed Mr. Presby.

But none of the party, at that hour of the night, were disposed to
consult the authorities on the subject. If they had looked on the table
in Richard's room they might have found there a yellow-covered pamphlet
novel, entitled "Sylvester Sound, the Somnambulist." It is a very
curious and amusing account of the antics of a sleep-walker, describing
the wonderful feats he performed in his slumbers, without having the
least idea of what he was doing.

The ingenious young rogue had been reading the book that very day, and
in the drama of the "Midnight Alarm," played at Woodville, he had
chosen for himself the part of Sylvester Sound. While his father went
for a hammer and nails, to secure the window, Richard removed his
telltale trousers, and jumped into bed.

CHAPTER V.

RICHARD IS DETERMINED TO BE REVENGED.

Mr. Grant nailed up the window in Richard's room, so that when he
should again walk in his sleep, he might not be exposed to the peril of
breaking his neck by falling off the roof of the conservatory. When
this important work was accomplished, the party retired. Mr. Presby was
a philosopher, and his library had not been a merely ornamental
appendage of his house. He had read a great deal, and thought a great
deal; and mesmerism, biology, psychology, somnambulism, and kindred
subjects, had each in its turn been considered, and a conclusion
reached.

Mr. Presby, therefore, was not disposed to return to his bed when the
excitement had subsided. So splendid an illustration of the phenomenon
of sleepwalking was enough to kindle his enthusiasm. He tried to draw
uncle Obed into a discussion on the topic, but the latter was too
sleepy. Mr. Grant made a home question of the matter, and did not care
to indulge in any philosophical inquiries. One after another the family
retired, till the old gentleman