David didn’t remember having taken off his sailor clothes and put on his pyjamas, but here he was in them now, and his sailor clothes were in a heap on the floor, and the light of the dawn was coming in through his windows. He felt tremendously sleepy, but before he turned round to get under his bed-clothes, he opened his hand to look at the golden key. But there was no key there: it was only the pin-partridge. For the moment he was horribly disappointed, but almost instantly he cheered up again. ‘It doesn’t matter a bit!’ he said. ‘I know how to get through the door now. Oh, what an exciting night. I wonder——’ But before he knew what he wondered he fell fast asleep. * * * * * When he went down to breakfast next morning, he found his father and mother already there. One was munching toast, and the other was reading the paper, in their dull way. ‘Good morning, David,’ said his mother. ‘You’re rather late, darling.’ His father stopped munching toast for a second. ‘Did the birds awake you, too, David?’ he said. ‘I never heard such a noise as there was about dawn.’ ‘I heard them,’ said David. ‘I went to sleep again afterwards.’ Just think! That was all that the grown-up people knew about those lovely adventures. David had never felt so sorry for them. Poor things. And then his mother began reading the paper again, and his father asked her if anything had happened. ‘If anything has happened!’ thought David, a little bit aloud. ‘What did you say, darling?’ asked his mother. ‘Oh, nothing,’ said David. ‘I was only thinking.’ * * * * * * Transcriber's note: Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Inconsistencies in punctuation have been maintained. Some illustrations moved to facilitate page layout.