"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.
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.