Philippe told his friend travelers that the most interesting place to see was the water front.
"It was there that the supplies, sent from your country during the World War, arrived," said the boy, looking at his American companion. "That is the port through which thousands and thousands of vessels pa.s.s each year."
They drove to the docks. Flags were flying from ships of almost every nation. There were miles and miles of masts and funnels. The air was full of busy noises.
"Did you know," asked the English gentleman, "that Antwerp is the second most important shipping port in Europe? Hamburg alone is more important."
[Ill.u.s.tration: ANTWERP IS THE SECOND MOST IMPORTANT SHIPPING PORT IN EUROPE]
After they had left the docks, they wandered about the city on foot.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THERE WERE MILES AND MILES OF MASTS AND FUNNELS IN ANTWERP HARBOR]
They saw the house where the great painter, Rubens, lived.
[Ill.u.s.tration: HOME OF RUBENS, ANTWERP]
It was growing late, and they talked of resting at a hotel before dinner. They were crossing a noisy street, on their way to a hotel, when Philippe suddenly saw Zelie and Tom.
The boy stopped. The two gentlemen were already on the opposite side.
But Philippe stood stock still in the middle of the street and clutched his fat little puppy until the dog squealed. He had seen Zelie and Tom!
But only for a moment.
Zelie was pushing the big organ. They had disappeared from sight, down an alleyway.
Only for a moment did Philippe stand still. Then he gathered his wits together. Off he dashed, after Zelie and Tom. But even though Philippe had followed almost immediately, they had now completely disappeared.
Thinking that he had been mistaken in the direction, Philippe turned around quickly and started down another street. Oh, he must find Zelie and Tom. He had missed them so. He wanted to talk with them again.
Frantically he turned, and once more he ran down the alleyway. There was a group of children playing on the curb.
"Have you seen a man and a girl with an organ?" asked Philippe in French.
The children did not understand. They giggled. Philippe realized that in Antwerp most of the people speak Flemish. He repeated his question in that language.
"Yes," replied one of the children. "They went very fast down that way.
They went past the church toward the station."
Calling back his thanks, Philippe darted off in the direction given.
Asking questions as he went, he finally arrived at the railway station.
Puffing and panting, he dashed up to the station master.
"Have you seen--a tall man--and a girl--with an organ?" puffed Philippe.
The station master smiled at the wild face of the boy before him.
Then he pointed to a train just chugging away and replied, "They are on that train which is leaving the station."
Philippe"s face fell. His heart pounded.
"Where is that train going?" he demanded.
"To Ghent," replied the station master, smiling. "It is too late to catch it now."
"When does the next train leave for Ghent?" asked Philippe.
"There is no train for Ghent tonight--only a freight train which leaves here in an hour," the man answered.
[Ill.u.s.tration: GHENT IS A VERY OLD CITY, AND IN SPITE OF ITS STORMY HISTORY, RETAINS MUCH OF ITS ANCIENT SPLENDOR]
The boy thanked the station master and turned away quickly. Philippe knew that he would not be allowed to ride on the freight train. But he also knew that he was going to follow his friends to Ghent if he had to board the train secretly and hide.
And that is just what he did. A wild idea had come into his head. Why should he go back to Brussels with the two gentlemen? Why should he begin all over again that dull life in the market place? Why not run away and join Tom and Zelie? They were not far. They were in Ghent. Yes, Philippe would go to Ghent.
So, huddled between boxes and crates, the boy and his puppy sat still in the stuffy freight car and waited for it to leave the station. Finally it pulled out, and Philippe knew that he was on his way to Ghent and to his friends.
Then he began to think of the thing he had done. What would the two foreign gentlemen think? What would his father and mother do when the gentlemen returned to Brussels without their boy?
Philippe smiled to himself as he thought, "I shall write to them. They will be pleased when I send them great sums of money."
Poor Philippe! Little did he know what awaited him! Little did he dream that much trouble lay between himself and his return home.
He only knew that at last he was off on his adventure. Young Philippe was now going forth into the world like a knight of old. But instead of riding a steed, this knight sat huddled in an old freight car with a fat puppy in his arms.
[Ill.u.s.tration: SAT HUDDLED IN AN OLD FREIGHT CAR]
Chapter VIII
A DIFFICULT JOURNEY
Belgium has more miles of railway than any other country of its size in the world.
Philippe was having a noisy ride, huddled up in the corner of a freight car. He was tired out from all the excitement of travel during the day.
Even the sounds of pa.s.sing trains, the swaying motion, the puff-puffing and shrill whistling all around him could not keep him awake. Philippe and Trompke slept.
Philippe did not know how long he had been sleeping when he suddenly sat up straight. The train had stopped. The boy rubbed his eyes. All was black around him. He could feel the soft coat of Trompke beside him.
He felt for the door of the car and opened it. Then he jumped out, followed by Trompke. He found himself standing beside the freight car.
It was night. They were in the middle of a field, far out in the country. The rest of the train had, no doubt, gone off and left them behind.
He was alone. Probably the rest of the freight train was now in Ghent.
But his car had been left in this deserted place for some reason which Philippe did not know.
He started across the field toward a farmhouse. He was very hungry! If only he might go in and ask for something to eat. But it was very late at night. The people were surely asleep, and he must not awaken them.