And then suddenly he felt very sleepy. He leaned against the wall, and presently it seemed that sitting down would be less trouble, and then that lying down would be more truly comfortable. A bell from very very far away sounded the hour, twelve. Philip counted up to nine, but he missed the tenth bell-beat, and the eleventh and the twelfth as well, because he was fast asleep cuddled up warmly in the thick quilted dressing-gown that Helen had made him last winter. He dreamed that everything was as it used to be before That Man came and changed everything and took Helen away. He was in his own little bed in his own little room in their own little house, and Helen had come to call him. He could see the sunlight through his closed eyelids--he was keeping them closed just for the fun of hearing her try to wake him, and presently he would tell her he had been awake all the time, and they would laugh together about it. And then he awoke, and he was not in his soft bed at home but on the hard floor of a big, strange gate-house, and it was not Helen who was shaking him and saying, 'Here--I say, wake up, can't you,' but a tall man in a red coat; and the light that dazzled his eyes was not from the sun at all, but from a horn lantern which the man was holding close to his face. 'What's the matter?' said Philip sleepily. 'That's the question,' said the man in red. 'Come along to the guard-room and give an account of yourself, you young shaver.' He took Philip's ear gently but firmly between a very hard finger and thumb. 'Leave go,' said Philip, 'I'm not going to run away.' And he stood up feeling very brave. The man shifted his hold from ear to shoulder and led Philip through one of those doors which he had thought of exploring by daylight. It was not daylight yet, and the room, large and bare, with an arch at each end and narrow little windows at the sides, was lighted by horn lanterns and tall tapers in pewter candlesticks. It seemed to Philip that the room was full of soldiers. Their captain, with a good deal of gold about him and a very smart black moustache, got up from a bench. 'Look what I've caught, sir,' said the man who owned the hand on Philip's shoulder. 'Humph,' said the captain, 'so it's really happened at last.' [Illustration: 'Here--I say, wake up, can't you?'] 'What has?' said Philip. 'Why, you have,' said the captain. 'Don't be frightened, little man.' 'I'm not frightened,' said Philip, and added politely, 'I should be so much obliged if you'd tell me what you mean.' He added something which he had heard people say when they asked the way to the market or the public gardens, 'I'm quite a stranger here,' he said. A jolly roar of laughter went up from the red-coats. 'It isn't manners to laugh at strangers,' said Philip. 'Mind your own manners,' said the captain sharply; 'in this country little boys speak when they're spoken to. Stranger, eh? Well, we knew that, you know!'