Philip, who did not know what a _crétin_ was, shook his head dubiously, and said he was not sure. Mr. Falconer, after assuring him that there was no doubt on the matter whatever, continued his cross-examination. "Where the devil have you come from? I suppose you know _that_!" "I came from Hampstead," replied Philip. "Do you live in that beastly spot?" "Yes." "What for?" "You have to live somewhere," the _crétin_ pointed out gently. "Then why not go on living there, you unspeakable Yahoo? Why leave your antimacassars, and china dogs, and wool mats, and wax fruit, and--and harmoniums, and come bursting into a civilised household--eh?" "I have run away from home," said Philip simply. Mr. Falconer uttered a yell of triumph. "A-a-ah! _Now_ we are getting at the facts. What is your address?" Philip told him. Mr. Falconer assumed an air of ferocious satisfaction. "Admirable!" he cried; "most inexpressibly satisfactory! You are outwitted! I have over-reached you--criminal! To-night, since you desire it, you shall enjoy my hospitality; but to-morrow morning, on the stroke of nine, an officer of the law--a policeman--shall wait upon you and conduct you back to the slum from which you came. Meanwhile, wretched offal, sleep! Sleep all over the studio if you like, and be damned to you! To-morrow--_ad leones_! Good-night!" And without another word this excellent but ill-balanced householder shot out of the studio into the passage, locking the door behind him. Philip finished the last piece of ham and the last mouthful of cocoa, turned out the electric light, rolled himself up in a Greek robe of saffron serge, and lay down upon the sofa. He was concerned in his mind about several things. In the first place, he had been discovered, and that might mean trouble both for Peggy and her mother. In the second the door was locked, which meant that he was a prisoner. In the third, he was to be sent back to Uncle Joseph at nine o'clock next morning, which would be an ignominious ending to his first great adventure. He pondered. In due course, just before he fell asleep, his obvious and proper course of action occurred to him. It was the only way, he decided, and moreover promised further adventure. He would have liked to be able to say good-bye to Peggy, but.... His eyes closed, and he slipped into the dreamless, motionless sleep of tired childhood, the lay figure and the other Strange Bedfellows keeping watch and ward by his pillow. CHAPTER X THE ECCENTRIC GENTLEMAN IT was a lovely morning. Philip, tramping vigorously along a Hertfordshire highway, felt that if all his adventures were to be conducted under such a kindly sun as this he would have little to complain of. But at present his most pressing desire was to get as far away from the residence of Mr. Montagu Falconer as possible.