Chapter X: In the Shadows of Bruges

Philippe traveled comfortably to Bruges. Thanks to his friend, the sister, he rode in a train. He left the glass-roofed station of Ghent, and soon the train was speeding through flat, fertile country. It was not long before the old city of Bruges loomed into sight.

The word "Bruges" means "Bridges," and it is no wonder that the city bears that name. For everywhere one looks, one sees a bridge.

Bruges is a very old city. Once, long years ago, it was a famous port. Fabrics of many kinds came into Bruges. Famous Belgian laces and linens were shipped from there to other countries.

But since the discovery of America, Bruges has been very quiet. For with the discovery of the new world came a great change. There came new methods of trading. Bruges sank back upon her bridges and let the rest of the world go by.

Philippe sat in his railway coach. He looked out of the window and thought how very gray and dull the old city looked.

"I should not like to be alone on those old cobbled streets at night," he shivered.

The tall steeples of the old churches threw shadows. Ghosts of knights in armor might well prowl those streets! Again Philippe shuddered.

He began to be a little homesick. He began to think about his mother and Papa Pomme and Baby Rose. He had disobeyed his parents. He had left those two kind gentlemen without saying a word.

What would they think of him? Philippe knew that he had done wrong. But somehow he knew that he was going to keep right on until he found Tom and Zelie. He could not give up now.

The train pulled into the station and stopped. The boy started out in search of the fair. To the market place he went. Crowds were there. It was a gay sight. Booths were everywhere. There were merry-go-rounds and swinging boats and shooting galleries and candy stands.

Children were all about, laughing, singing, eating. Philippe's eye was trained, and he knew market places. He had spent most of his life in one. So he found a spot for himself and began to dress the dog, Trompke.

Trompke disapproved. But Philippe won the battle, and soon the dog was dressed in lace cap and veil. His worried, wrinkled face looked out from under the dainty lace cap. His tail wiggled the handsome lacy train.

Philippe sang to attract the crowds and soon people began to stop and to laugh at Trompke. All the time Philippe was looking about him, while his heart beat fast.

Perhaps a few feet away from him were his friends. He hoped that he would find them. Perhaps Zelie had sung to the same people who were now laughing at Trompke.

The boy examined every booth. But there was no sign of Tom or Zelie.

Meanwhile the sister's lace was selling fast. People stopped to laugh and to pet Trompke. The little boy explained to them about the lace.

"The finest lace in all the world, madam," said he, "made by the sisters in Ghent. A very excellent bargain."

Philippe sold all his lace and found his pockets bulging with money. How pleased the good sister would be!

Besides, he had made extra money for himself. People gave him extra money because they liked his sweet voice and because Trompke made them laugh.

But the heart of Philippe was heavy. He had not seen Tom and Zelie! He was in a strange city; he was far from home, and it was growing late.

Philippe now walked slowly to the post office. Here he sent away two letters. One was to his father.

He told his father not to worry about him. He said that he could not return to Brussels because he was going to make his way and send them a great deal of money. He enclosed some bills in the envelope, and he felt proud.

The other letter was to the sister and contained the money in payment for the laces and also payment of the amount the sister had loaned him.

He still had money in his pocket. He bought food. But Trompke ate most of it. Somehow Philippe did not feel hungry. He was too excited.