“The dawn was just breaking.  I suppose it must have been about four o’clock, but I didn’t look at my watch,” replied Austin.  “I was too cold and sleepy.”

“Cold and sleepy!” exclaimed Aunt Charlotte.  “And the house collapsing over your head.  You seem to have had time to pull the bedclothes away, though.  That’s very curious.  What did you do that for?”

“I didn’t,” replied Austin.

“Then who did?” asked Aunt Charlotte, getting more and more excited.  “I do wish you’d be a little more communicative, Austin; I have to drag every word out of you as though you were trying to hide something.  Who hung the bedclothes over the footrail if you didn’t?”

“I can’t tell you.  I don’t know.  All I know is that I found them where they are now when I woke up, and I woke up because I was so cold.  Then I got out of bed, and a minute afterwards down came all the bricks.”

“Do you mean to tell me——­” began Aunt Charlotte, in her most scathing tones.

“Certainly I do.  Exactly what I have told you.  Why?”

“Do you expect me to believe,” resumed his aunt, “that somebody came into the room when you were asleep, and deliberately pulled off all your bedclothes for the fun of doing it?  Am I to understand——­”

“My dear auntie, I am not an idiot, nor am I in the habit of perjuring myself,” interrupted Austin.  “I saw nobody come into the room, and I saw nobody pull off the clothes.  If you really want to know what I ‘expect you to believe,’ I’ve already told you.  I might tell you a little more, but then I shouldn’t expect you to believe it, so what would be the good?  It seems to me the best thing to do now is to send for Snewin to take away all this mess, move the furniture, and mend the hole in the ceiling.  If once it begins to rain——­”

“Oh!  You might tell me a little more, might you?” said Aunt Charlotte, bristling.  “So you haven’t told me everything after all.  Now, then, never mind whether I believe it or not, that’s my affair.  What is there more to tell?”

“Nothing,” replied Austin.  “Because it isn’t only your affair whether you believe me or not; it’s my affair as well.  Why, you don’t even believe what I’ve told you already!  So I won’t tax your credulity any further.”

Aunt Charlotte now began to get rather angry, “Look here, Austin,” she said, “I intend to get to the bottom of this business, so it’s not the slightest use trying to beat about the bush.  I insist on your telling me how it was you happened to get out of bed just before the accident occurred, and how the bedclothes came to be pulled away and hung where they are now.  There’s a mystery about the whole thing, and I hate mysteries, so you’d better make a clean breast of it at once.”

“Had I?” said Austin, pretending to reflect.  “I wonder whether it would be wise.  You see, dear auntie, you’re such a sensitive creature; your nerves are so highly strung, you’re so easily frightened out of your dear old wits—­”