THE INTERVIEW
For a moment the man whom Frank addressed remained staring dully at the
boy. Nearer and nearer came the attendants, for the little excitement at
the head of the line had been quelled.
"Your voice reminds me of someone," the man went on, "but I don't
know you."
"I will tell you who I am, if you will tell me where I can see you
alone to-night," Frank whispered, for the other patients were gazing
curiously at him.
"I can go to the little summer house in the garden at the back," the man
went on, as though it was of no interest to him. "This is my well night.
I will be there at ten o'clock."
"I will meet you," Frank whispered, and then, seeing an attendant coming
on a run toward him, the boy made a dash for the woods and disappeared.
"Who was that?" asked the guard, coming up to where Frank had stood
conversing.
"It was the king of the cannibal islands!" exclaimed one of the other
patients with a silly laugh. "He came to get me to enter into an alliance
with him. I'm Lord Nelson, you know, and he wanted my fleet of ships to
make war on the Queen of Fairy Land. But I refused. I am going to capture
the Pyramids!" and the man began capering about like a child, singing
nursery rhymes.
"Come, 'Lord Nelson,' you must get in line. This is dress parade," the
attendant said.
But "Lord Nelson," as the insane man imagined himself to be, was not
going to be coerced so easily. He started to run, and the keeper took
after him. It was several minutes before "Lord Nelson" was caught, and,
by that time, the guard had forgotten about Frank, and made no further
inquiries. The patients resumed their march.
Frank, hurrying through the woods, felt himself in a tumult of doubts and
fears. He wondered if he had done right, and what would be the outcome of
the interview in the summer house. So much might depend on it, yet so
little might come of it.
"I am sure I'm right," the boy murmured, as he went to where he had left
his canoe. "If he only will recognize me! Oh! if he only will! But it is
so many years!"
He reached his boat, and paddled up stream, thinking it best to hide, in
case there might be a search made for him.
Frank remained in the seclusion of the woods, near the stream until dark.
He still had some lunch left, and he ate that, meanwhile planning what he
would say at the interview with the patient from the sanitarium.
"I must get him away from here," Frank thought. "Perhaps there may be a
means of curing him, and then he can tell me everything connected with
the secret. Oh! if he only could!"
How long the hours seemed while he waited! He thought ten o'clock would
never come, but at last, looking at his watch by the light of a match, he
saw it lacked but thirty minutes of that time. "I'll start," he said to
himself. "He may be there a little ahead of me."
Frank reached the edge of the woods, where they marked the beginning of
the sanitarium grounds. From there he took a cautious look. There seemed
to be no one in sight, and he quickly ran across the open space to the
summer house. This was a vine-covered arbor, situated at the back of the
institution. Inside was a circular bench running all around, and it was a
favorite place of such patients as were well enough to be allowed to roam
about at will.
Frank looked inside the little house before he entered. There was no one
there, and he sat down on the bench. Then, with eyes and ears on the
alert for the first suspicious sight or sound, he waited. He could hear
the distant tramping of the guards as they paced about the institution.
"It's just like a prison," the boy thought. "What a horrible place
to stay in!"
A clock, somewhere in the institution, struck the hour of ten, the sound
being plainly audible through the opened windows. Frank started to his
feet. As he did so he heard someone approaching along the gravel path.
His heart was beating with quick, hard throbs.
"Is the young man, who wanted to see me, here?" asked a voice.
"Yes, I am here," replied Frank.
"What do you want? You are a stranger to me. I do not know what whim made
me agree to meet you here. I am not usually well enough to see visitors.
Indeed I never have any. What do you wish?"
"I have come to take you away from here!"
"Take me away from here?" and the patient spoke the words as though they
frightened him. "I can't go. I must stay. Sometimes, when I am feeling
well, as I do now, I might wish that; but those times are rare. Mostly I
am very ill. My head hurts me, and I cannot think. My mind becomes a
blank. Then I am glad I am here, and do not wish to go away. But why
should a stranger take so much interest in me? Why do you want to help me
to escape? I do not know you."
"I want to help you, because--" began Frank.
"Hush! Someone is coming!" interrupted the man. "It is against the rules
for the patients to talk to visitors. If you are found here they may
arrest you. One of the guards is coming!"
"I don't care. I must tell you who I am."
"Hurry! Hurry away!" exclaimed the man.
"Not until I tell you what I came here for. I believe you are--"
"Who's there?" called the angry voice of one of the attendants, as he
caught the sound of the voices in the summer house.
"You must go," the man pleaded with Frank. "You will only make trouble
for yourself and me." He spoke in a whisper, and the guard who was
running on the gravel path could not hear above the sound of his own
footsteps.
"Can I see you again?" asked Frank.
"Yes. Sometime. But go now."
Frank saw it would be best to leave before the attendant arrived. He
slipped out of the little house on the side that was in the deepest
shadow, and hurried away. A few seconds later the guard entered the
place, and Frank could hear him questioning the patient.
"Who was here?"
"The king of fairyland," was the response. "He came to bring me my
golden chariot."
"Looney again," was the guard's comment which Frank heard. "Come on back
to your room."
"I must try again," Frank said softly to himself as he hurried across the
open space and into the woods once more. "I am on the right track!"
The boy made his way to where he had left the canoe. His mind was in a
whirl at the scene he had just taken part in, and his heart, that had
been filled with hope, was a little sad now at his failure. Still he had
not given up.
"I'll go back to camp," he thought. "Then I can try again. I must have
more time to talk to him, and we must get a chance when there will be
no danger of interruptions. I will come again, but I must think up a
new plan."
Then, setting the canoe into the water, he began to paddle back. Though
it was approaching midnight he decided he would keep on, and get back to
camp by morning.