I assure you the poor boy seemed almost beside himself with fright. He hurried me away to the house, and was in a terrible state all that evening, hardly sleeping. Some one had to sit up with him, as far as I remember. He was better very soon, but for days I couldn’t get him to say why he had been in such a condition. It came out at last that he had really been asleep and had had a very odd disjointed sort of dream. He never saw much of what was around him, but he felt the scenes most vividly. First he made out that he was standing in a large room with a number of people in it, and that some one was opposite to him who was “very powerful,” and he was being asked questions which he felt to be very important, and, whenever he answered them, some one – either the person opposite to him, or some one else in the room – seemed to be, as he said, making something up against him. All the voices sounded to him very distant, but he remembered bits of things that were said: “Where were you on the 19th of October?” and “Is this your handwriting?” and so on.