"If I went out, I suppose I was," replied Richard, going to the window and looking out, thus turning his back to those in the room.
He could not bear the penetrating gaze of his father, and the quizzing glances of Mr. Presby and uncle Obed were utterly insupportable.
"Mr. Presby, you have devoted considerable attention to the phenomena of sleep-walking," added uncle Obed. "What do you think of this case?"
"I think it is the most remarkable one on record," replied the philosopher, whose smile had grown into a broad grin. "Richard, I am deeply interested in the investigation of this matter, and I want to ask you a few questions. Will you oblige me by answering them?"
"I will if I can," said Richard, rather doggedly, for he was fully satisfied, by this time, that the old gentleman was quizzing him.
"If you can, then, will you be kind enough to tell me whether Sandy Brimblecom was asleep or not, when he joined you in the boat at the point below Whitestone?"
"Who? Sandy joined me?" stammered Richard, staggered by this home thrust of the friend of the family.
"Yes; I am very anxious to know whether there is a sympathy between sleep-walkers which draws them together, even though separated by miles of space."
Richard made no reply; he had none to make. He had no idea how much his tormentors knew of the events of the night.
"You don't answer, my boy. I have been the butt of your uncle for the last week on account of my devotion to the cause of science. I have studied your case very thoroughly, and I may want to make a report of it to the scientific associations."