"I suppose I may as well wait, and be as patient as I can," he mused; "besides, Uncle Gregory may think differently after what Mr. Murray said to him to-day;" and then he turned over lazily on the grass, pulled his hat over his eyes, and in a very few minutes was sound asleep. He was very tired, and fairly worn out with the excitement as well as the fatigue of the long summer's day, and he slept heavily. How long he did not know, when he started to his feet suddenly, to find himself quite damp from a heavy dew, chilled, stiff, sore, and, worst of all, hungry. The park was quite deserted and very dark, still he knew his way tolerably well, and hurried towards the gate, shivering partly with cold, partly with nervousness, at finding himself quite alone in the dark--everything was so gloomy and weird. When he reached the gates he was really frightened to find them locked, and to see by the lamplight that it was just eleven o'clock. What would Uncle Gregory say when he got home? How was he to get home unless some one came and let him out? for though a tolerably skilful climber, Bertie felt that great swing gate was beyond him; he did not like to venture over the sharp spikes at the top, even if he could get so high. For a few minutes he called loudly, but no one took the least notice, and he was becoming more and more frightened when he saw the friendly gleam of a policeman's lantern. It was some time before he could attract his attention, and when he did the man spoke quite gruffly, and threatened him with all sorts of pains and penalties for being in the park after hours.
"I couldn't help it, indeed!" Bertie cried, earnestly. "I was so tired that I fell asleep, and uncle will be dreadfully anxious about me. Oh, do please find some one to let me out!"
"Who's your uncle? and where does he live?" the policeman said, a little less gruffly, for as he turned his bull's-eye on Bertie he saw he was not a common offender, but a handsome young gentleman, who looked in real, not sham, trouble.
"My uncle is Mr. Gregory, and he lives in Gore House, just close by. Oh, do please, get me out! he will be so anxious!"
The policeman hesitated for a moment, and then directed Bertie to a part of the railing tolerably easy to climb, from which he assisted him carefully to get down, and walked with him to Gore House. There was light in the library and dining-room, but there did not seem to be any fuss or confusion, and it just struck Bertie that perhaps he had not been missed at all. His uncle had seemed very preoccupied all day; perhaps he had forgotten all about him since the time he had sent him to Threadneedle Street. As it happened, that was just the case. Mr. Gregory did not come home till late, when he was accompanied by Mr. Murray; and immediately after dinner both gentlemen went into the library, and had remained there ever since. It was as James the footman opened the door, and the policeman and Bertie entered the hall, that Mr. Gregory and Mr. Murray entered it too from the library.