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.