Major Grafton was quite easy in mind after consigning Ben to the safe custody of an insane asylum.
"Serves the boy right!" he said. "What business had he to interfere with my plans? M. Bourdon will see that he does not annoy me any further."
His confidence in the wisdom of his plan was maintained by the frequent letters he received from the director of the asylum, in all of which he spoke encouragingly of the effect of discipline upon Ben. Major Grafton regularly transmitted the compensation agreed on between them.
This continued until one day Major Grafton, who had now returned to Geneva, was dumbfounded by receiving the following telegram from Mr. Codicil:
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"Your scheme is revealed, and your guardianship at an end. No further drafts of yours will be honored.
"N. Codicil."
"Confusion! What does this mean?" ejaculated Major Grafton. "That wretched boy must have found means of writing to America. If this is so, I will haul M. Bourdon over the coals. It must have been through his criminal negligence."
He lost no time in setting out for the asylum, which he reached in due season.
"I wish to see M. Bourdon," he said, sternly, to the attendant who had admitted him.
The doctor, who would rather have seen any one else, could hardly conceal his dismay when he set eyes on the major.
"Can he have found out?" he asked.
"Dr. Bourdon, how is my ward?" he demanded.
"Tranquil and contented," answered the doctor, smoothly.
"I have reason to think you have been negligent, and allowed him to write letters to America."
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"Impossible, my dear sir—quite impossible, I assure you."
"I believe there is some trickery here," said the major, sternly. "I wish to see the boy."
Perspiration gathered on the brow of M. Bourdon, though it was a cool day. How could he stave off this visit? His wits came to the rescue.
"I greatly regret to tell you," he said, "that your ward is sick of a contagious disease. To see him would imperil your life."
Major Grafton was not a nervous man, and he was too much in earnest to be turned from his design.
"I am not afraid," he said; "I will see him."
"I will go and prepare him for your visit," said the doctor, sorely perplexed.
Five minutes had not elapsed when he returned in apparent consternation.
"My good sir," he said, "I have serious news. Your ward is not in his room. He must have escaped in the night."
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the major, livid with passion. "Just now you told me [313] he was sick with a dangerous malady; now you say he has escaped. I have a great mind to strangle you!" and he clutched the doctor by the collar.
"Mercy, mercy!" shrieked the doctor, terribly alarmed. "Are you mad?"
"When did the boy escape? Tell me instantly, if you value your life."
"Over a month since. I didn't wish to alarm you, and so concealed the intelligence."
"While you continued to draw for his board, you thief!"
"I—I am prepared to refund the money, monsieur. I only drew because it was necessary to keep up the deception."
M. Bourdon refunded five weeks' board, told the story of Ben's escape, and Major Grafton was compelled to be content with this.
"I am afraid the game is up!" he muttered, as he rode rapidly away. "That cursed boy has spoiled all. I wish I had him in my clutches!"
It was well for Ben that he was not within reach of the irate major.