about returning to Fitzroy Square.

"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 fu