The gardener had gone home, and Sergeant Cuff was nowhere to be found in the lower regions of the house.
I looked into my room.

Quite true--nothing was to be discovered there but a couple of empty tumblers and a strong smell of hot grog.

Had the Sergeant gone of his own accord to the bed-chamber that was prepared for him?
I went up-stairs to see.
After reaching the second landing, I thought I heard a sound of quiet and regular breathing on my left-hand side.

My left-hand side led to the corridor which communicated with Miss Rachel's room.

I looked in, and there, coiled up on three chairs placed right across the passage--there, with a red handkerchief tied round his grizzled head, and his respectable black coat rolled up for a pillow, lay and slept Sergeant Cuff! He woke, instantly and quietly, like a dog, the moment I approached him.
"Good night, Mr.Betteredge," he said.