od-humoured over the business, as he thought of
certain remarks he would be able to make to the gardener next day; and
he was running over this, and wishing that some one would come to break
the monotonous vigil, when there was the sound of a door opening up at
the cottage, and then steps on the gravel path. Directly after Uncle
Richard's voice was heard.

"Now, Tom, my lad, just ten o'clock; give it up for to-night. Where are
you?"

Before Tom could make answer there was a quick movement on his left, an
elbow was jerked into his ribs, and David exclaimed in a husky whisper--

"Now, my lad, wake up. Here's your uncle."

"Yes, uncle, here!" cried Tom, as he clapped his hand to his side.

"Well, have you got him?"

"Nay, sir," said David; "nobody been here to-night, but I shall ketch
him yet."

"No, no, be off home to bed," said Uncle Richard.

"Bime by, sir. I'll make it twelve first," said David.

"No," cried Uncle Richard decisively. "It is not likely that any one
will come now."

"Then he'll be here before it's light," said David.

"Perhaps, but we can't spare time for this night work. Home with you,"
cried Uncle Richard.

"Tell you what then, sir, I'll go and lie down for an hour or two, and
get here again before it's light."

"Very well," said Uncle Richard. "I'll fasten the gate after you.
Good-night. No: you run to the gate with him, Tom."

"All right, uncle," cried the boy; and then, "Oh my! how stiff my knees
are. How are yours, David?" he continued, as they walked to the gate.

"Bit of a touch o' rheumatiz in 'em, sir. Ground's rayther damp.
Good-night, sir. We'll have him yet."

"Good-night," said Tom. "But I say, David, did you have a good nap?"

"Good what, sir? Nap? Me have a nap? Why, you don't think as I went
to sleep?"

"No, I don't think so," cried Tom, laughing.

"Don't you say that now, sir; don't you go and say such a word. Come, I
do like that: me go to sleep? Why, sir, it was you, and you got
dreaming as I slep'. I do like that."

"All right, David. Good-night."

Tom closed the gate, and ten minutes later he was in bed asleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

The church clock was striking six when Tom awoke, sprang out of bed, and
looked out of the window, to find a glorious morning, with everything
drenched in dew.

Hastily dressing and hurrying down, he felt full of reproach for having
overslept himself, his last thought having been of getting up at
da