gave a sudden start, gasped, rolled my eyes wildly, and exclaimed:—
"Where am I?"
They explained to me in language quite unsuited to the sacred edifice in which they were standing, that I was in St. Pancras Church.
"How did I come here? I don't remember anything about it! The last thing I can remember is being in bed with a bilious headache, and trying to go to sleep! And here I am, dressed and wide-awake, in St. Pancras Church. What is the inference?"
They admitted in disgracefully strong language, that they were at a loss to draw any satisfactory inference from this statement.
"My dear uncle, my good (but violent) cousins," said I, "this is very distressing to me, for I thought I had quite shaken it off. I haven't done such a thing as walk in my sleep for years."
They replied, sardonically, that they felt sure of it.
"I once remained for nearly a week in a state of somnambulism. It is most providential that you happened to be here."
They quite agreed with me.
"Another time," said I, "don't wake me suddenly. It is very dangerous to wake a somnambulist with a violent shock. Better let him have his sleep out."
This I said to keep up the illusion.
They promised that, now that they were aware of my infirmity, they would not wake me too suddenly on the next occasion.
