INTRODUCES TWO CELEBRITIES.
What a change a short half-hour may make in the position and
feelings of any person! Little did Ben imagine, when he set out on a
drive in the morning with Major Grafton, that he was on his way to
one of the most hopeless of prisons.
It was hard even now for him to realize his position. He looked
from the window, and with a glance of envy saw in a field, not far
away, some Swiss peasants at work. They were humble people, living
a quiet, uneventful, laborious life; yet Ben felt that they were
infinitely better off than he, provided he were doomed to pass the
remainder of his life in this refuge. But of this he would not
entertain the idea. He was young, not yet seventeen, and life was
full of pleasant possibilities.
"I am a Yankee," he thought, "and I don't believe they will succeed
in keeping me here long. I will keep a bright lookout for a chance
to escape."
Half an hour later Ben heard the key grate in the lock, and, fixing
his eyes on the entrance, he saw Francois enter.
"Monsieur, dinner is ready," he said.
Ben, notwithstanding his disagreeable situation, felt that he, too,
was ready for the dinner. He was glad to find that it was not to be
served to him in his own room. He would have a chance of seeing the
other inmates of the house.
"Where is it?" he asked.
"Follow me," answered Francois, of course in French.
He led the way, and Ben followed him into a lower room, long
and narrow, which was used as the dining-room. There were no
side-windows, and it would have been quite dark but for a narrow
strip of window near the ceiling.
Around a plain table sat a curious collection of persons. It was
easy to see that something was the matter with them, for I do
not wish to have it understood that all the inmates of the house
were, like our hero, perfectly sane. M. Bourdon was not wholly a
quack, but he was fond of money, and, looking through the eyes of
self-interest, he was willing to consider Ben insane, although he
knew very well that he was as rational as himself.
"Sit here, monsieur," said Francois.
Ben took the seat indicated, and naturally turned to survey his
immediate neighbors.
The one on the right-hand was a tall, venerable-looking man, with
white hair and a flowing beard, whose manner showed the most perfect
decorum. The other was a thin, dark-complexioned man, of bilious
aspect, and shifty, evasive eyes. Neither noticed Ben at first, as
the dinner appeared to engross their first attention. This consisted
of a thin broth and a section of a loaf of coarse bread as the first
course. Ben had been accustomed to more luxurious fare, and he was
rather surprised to see with what enjoyment his neighbors partook
of it. Next came a plate of meat, and this was followed by a small
portion of grapes. There was nothing more. It was clear that M.
Bourdon did not consider rich fare good for his patients.
"I think I would rather dine at the hotel," thought Ben; but the
diet was not by any means the worst thing of which he complained.
"If I were free I would not mind how poor and plain my fare was," he
thought.
His companions finished dinner before him, and had leisure to bestow
some attention upon him.
"My little gentleman, do you come from Rome?" asked the venerable
old gentleman on his right.
"No, sir," answered Ben.
"I am sorry. I wished to ask you a question."
"Indeed, sir. Perhaps I might answer it even now. I have been in
Florence."
"No; that will not do; and yet, perhaps you may have met persons
coming from Rome?"
"I did, monsieur."
"Then perhaps they told you how things were going on."
"Very well, I believe, monsieur."
"No, that could not be," said the old gentleman, shaking his head.
"I am sure nothing would go well without me."
"Do you, then, live in Rome?" asked Ben, curiously.
"Surely!" exclaimed the old man. "Did you not know that the Pope
lived in Rome?"
"But what has that to do with you, sir?"
"A great deal. Know, my little gentleman, that I--to whom you are
speaking--am the Pope."
This was said with an air of importance.
"There's no doubt about his being insane," thought Ben.
"How, then, do you happen to be here?" asked our hero, interested to
see what his companion would say.
"I was abducted," said the old gentleman, lowering his voice, "by an
emissary of the King of America. M. Bourdon is a cousin of the king,
and he is in the plot. But they won't keep me here long."
"I hope not," said Ben, politely.
"The King of Spain has promised to send an army to deliver me. I
only received his letter last week. You will not tell M. Bourdon,
will you?"
"Certainly not," answered Ben.
"It is well; I thought I could rely upon your honor."
"My friend," said another voice, that of his left-hand neighbor,
"you are losing your time in talking with that old fool. The fact
is, he isn't right here," and he touched his head.
The Pope appeared deeply absorbed in thought, and did not hear this
complimentary remark.
"He thinks he is the Pope. He is no more the Pope than I am."
Ben nodded non-committally.
"He ought to be here. But I--I am the victim of an infamous horde of
enemies, who have placed me here."
"Why should they do that, sir?"
"To keep me out of my rights. It is the English Government that has
done it. Of course, you know who I am."
"No, sir, I don't think I do."
"Look well at me!" and the dark man threw himself back in his chair
for inspection.
"I am afraid I don't recognize you, monsieur," said Ben.
"Bah! where are your eyes?" said the other, contemptuously. "I am
Napoleon Bonaparte!"
"But I thought you died at St. Helena," said Ben.
"Quite a mistake, I assure you. The English Government so asserted,
but it was a deception. They wished my memory to die out among my
faithful French. They buried my effigy, but smuggled me off in a
vessel late at night. They placed me here, and here they mean to
keep me--if they can. But some day I shall escape; I shall re-enter
France; I shall summon all to my banner, and at the head of a great
army I shall enter Paris. Do you know what I will do then?"
"What will you do, sir?" asked Ben, with some curiosity.
"I shall descend upon England with an army of five millions of
men," said the dark man, his eyes flashing, "and burn all her cities
and towns."
"That will be rather severe, won't it?" asked Ben.
"She deserves it; but I may do worse."
"How can that be?"
"Do you see that man over on the other side of the table--the short,
red-haired man?"
"Yes, I see him."
"He is a chemist and has invented a compound a thousand times more
powerful than dynamite. I am negotiating for it, and, if I succeed,
I mean to blow the whole island out of the water. What do you think
of that, eh?" he continued, triumphantly.
"I think in that case I shall keep away from England," answered Ben,
keeping as straight a face as he could.
"Ah, you will do well."
When dinner was over, the boarders passed out of the room, Ben among
them. He was destined not to go out quietly.
Suddenly a wild-looking woman darted toward him and threw her arms
around his neck, exclaiming:
"At last I have found you, my son, my son!"
Ben struggled to release himself, assisted by Francois, who did not
scruple to use considerable force.
"None of your tricks, madam!" he cried, angrily.
"Will you take from me my boy?" she exclaimed, piteously.
"There is some mistake. I am not your son," said Ben.
The woman shook her head sadly.
"He disowns his poor mother," she said, mournfully.
On the whole, Ben was rather glad to return to his chamber.
"I don't like my fellow-boarders," he thought. "I sha'n't stay in
the _maison de fous_ any longer than I am obliged to."