It was a weird place to which Philippe led his little party. Crows, descendants of the poet and the fairy, flew all about. The noise they made was deafening.

Philippe was in a state of great excitement; and the screeching and yelling of the thousands of birds made his head whirl.

As night came, however, the crows grew quieter. The little group settled itself to rest.

The man said, "This is your doing, boy. If there is no bag of gold in the morning I shall make your head feel like a bag of gold!"

He smiled, but Philippe saw a wicked gleam in his eye.

They were all tired, and soon Tom fell asleep; but not Philippe and Zelie! The boy and girl lay awake and stared into the darkness. They listened. They waited.

Now, if only some one would come! This was their one chance to capture Tom and to free themselves. The night wore on. But no one came.

Philippe could stand it no longer. What if Papa Pomme had not received his letter?

The boy stirred slowly and sat up. Suppose morning came and no one arrived? Tom would not find a bag of gold, and he would surely beat poor Philippe for deceiving him.

No, he could not take that chance. There was only one thing to do. He must try to escape with Zelie now.

Philippe stole softly to his little friend's side.

"Quiet, quiet, Zelie! Not a sound! Come with me," he whispered.

Softly, silently they tiptoed toward the entrance of the cave.

But Philippe had forgotten one thing. He had forgotten Trompke. And Trompke was not to be forgotten! The little dog lay chained to a rock.

Tom always took care to keep him tied. Trompke was an important member of that little group.

As the boy and girl neared the door, Trompke awoke. Dogs do not sleep as soundly as people. Trompke's brow wrinkled. He cocked his puzzled head on one side. His tail began to speak.

"Where are you going, my little master?" asked Trompke's tail.

But the children were at the door. They did not hear the tail language.

So Trompke had to use his mouth. He barked. He barked again.

Philippe clutched Zelie's hand and ran out of the cave.

But the first bark had awakened Tom. He was up like a jack rabbit. He cried out to them to stop. But they kept on running.

Tom was swift, and it was not long before he overtook them. Back to the cave he brought them. Philippe could see that he was very angry.

"Make ready to leave," he commanded Zelie.

Morning was in the sky now. Tom stood before Philippe, and his eyes flashed. But Philippe's eyes were steady.

"You are brave, eh?" sneered Tom. "Only brave men will spend a night in the cave. Well, my hero, where is the gold?"

Philippe answered, "I do not know, sir."

"Tricks!" roared Tom.

Then he took a stick.

Meanwhile a big touring car was driving along the road toward the cave. It was the car belonging to the two gentlemen who had taken Philippe to Antwerp.

When Papa Pomme had received the letter from Philippe he had immediately shown it to the gentlemen. They had been terribly worried about the boy and had tried in every way to help the poor parents.

When the two gentlemen read of Philippe's plan to capture Tom at the cave, they immediately told the police. Soon the big touring car with the two gentlemen and two policemen was on its way to the cave.

"This is the place," cried one of the officers.

The car stopped. The four men jumped out. With their guns drawn, they entered the cave.

They heard Tom laughing and saying, "Now, after I have beaten you, perhaps you will not try any more tricks. We shall leave for other lands, where you cannot escape so easily. We shall go to France and England and then——"

Suddenly Tom stopped speaking. His jaw dropped open. The stick fell from his hands. He saw a sight that made him turn pale. For two gentlemen and two policemen stood in the door of the cave. Each policeman was pointing a pistol at Tom!

Then the Englishman and the American walked over to them.

"The plans for your trip sound very interesting," said the Englishman in French to Tom. "But I am afraid we must spoil them. There is another trip which we have planned for you, instead."

The American looked very thoughtful.

"How in the world do you say 'prison' in French?" he asked.

"The same as in English," answered his friend.

They marched outside to the car. Tom was handcuffed. He walked between two policemen. Zelie walked with Philippe. They entered the big car and started off. Tom was scowling fiercely.

The American smiled and said, "In our country the children sing this song." He sang:

Philippe echoed, "My fair leddy!"

Together they repeated the song, Zelie joining in. Philippe did not understand what he was singing. He did not care, for he was very happy.

The road ran along the beautiful River Meuse (muz). Philippe watched the patient fishermen sitting on the banks. "How peaceful and quiet it is to stay at home!" he thought.