But poor Philippe had to pay for this trick. Tom locked him up all day and gave him only bread and water.
Yet the boy's heart leaped with joy. Now the letter was off. It only remained for him to persuade Tom to spend the night in the cave.
It was pleasant country through which they were passing. Along the banks of the Sambre (sän'-br) River, they saw many women washing clothes. Men on barges waved and called to them. These men seemed a happy lot. Old castles loomed up.
Monday arrived. The three travelers were nearing the Cave of the Crows.
"Have you ever heard the story of the Cave of the Crows, sir?" asked Philippe.
"No," replied Tom. "Tell it to me."
He liked Philippe's stories. The little fellow had entertained him with many.
"They say," began Philippe, "that long, long years ago a wandering poet passed this cave, and there he met a beautiful fairy. He fell in love with her and she with him. They married and lived in the cave together.
"But one day the fairy was called to a gathering in fairyland. The other fairies were angry to learn that she had married a mortal. As a punishment the poor fairy was changed into an ugly black crow with a hoarse, terrible voice.