Jr. Horatio Alger

The Maison De Fous.

This question of what he ought to do disturbed Ben not a little. As an honorable boy he did not wish to benefit any longer than was absolutely necessary by a deception which involved injustice and fraud. He was living very comfortably, it is true, and his allowance was a handsome one. He sent half of it to his mother, and this was sufficient to provide all that was needed for her and his sister's comfort. He had done this innocently, hitherto, but now that his eyes were opened, his knowledge would make him an accomplice in the conspiracy.

In his uncertainty he decided upon what was not, perhaps, the most judicious course, to ask Major Grafton directly in regard to the matter.

An opportunity soon came.

"Major Grafton," Ben began, "how long since did Philip die?"

The major regarded him suspiciously. The question put him on his guard.

"A few months ago," he answered indifferently.

"Were you—his guardian?"

"You seem curious this morning, Philip," answered the major, coldly.

If Ben had been older and more experienced he would have been able to get at the truth indirectly, but it was his nature to be straightforward.

"I heard something yesterday that disturbed me," he said.

Major Grafton threw himself back in an easy-chair and fixed his eyes searchingly on the boy.

"Tell me what you heard," he said, shortly, "and from whom."

"I was sitting on a bench near the lake when two ladies began speaking about you—and me."

"Tell me what they said," broke in Grafton, impatiently.

"The truth must be told," thought Ben, "even if Major Grafton gets offended."

"They said that Philip had a large fortune, and you were his guardian. When he died the money was to go to some cousins in New York. They said that you had concealed his death, and so continued to draw the income of the property, and were palming off me for him. They seemed to think I was your nephew, and was in the plot."

Major Grafton was a good deal disturbed by what Ben had told him. Of course there was a strong chance that the truth would come out some time, but he had hoped to keep it concealed for some years, perhaps.

"These ladies seem to have a large share of imagination," he said, with a forced laugh. "From one fabrication you may judge all. You know whether you are my nephew or not, and whether you are engaged in any plot?"

"No, sir, of course not."

"The whole thing is ridiculous; I don't think you need trouble yourself any more about it."

But Ben was not satisfied, and Major Grafton could see this from his look.

"That was my reason for asking whether Philip had any property," he continued, with an inquiring look.

"I must satisfy him in some way," thought the major, "or he will compromise me."

"I wouldn't like to think I was keeping any property away from the rightful owners," proceeded Ben.

"You can put yourself at ease," said the major, carelessly. "Those ladies, whoever they are, know almost nothing about the matter. Philip did have a little property, yielding scarcely enough for his own expenses. At his death it fell to me. His grandfather was an intimate friend of mine, and made the arrangement in gratitude for my care of the boy."

"Then there were no cousins in New York?" asked Ben, doubtfully.

"Not that I am aware of. That is a lie out of whole cloth. There is no one more unscrupulous than a female gossip. Did you speak to either of the ladies?"

"No, sir."

"That was right. You might have made mischief and seriously offended me. Do you often write home?"

"Every week, sir."

"I have no objection to that, but I must caution you against repeating this nonsensical and absurd story. I have taken a great deal of interest in you on account of your resemblance to poor Philip, to whom I was tenderly attached. It is on that account I engaged you to accompany me. You would not be likely to do as well in New York?"

"No, sir; no one would think of paying me as liberally as you do."

"I am glad you appreciate the advantages of your position. I hope you won't lose it by any foolishness," added Grafton, significantly.

Ben felt that there was no more to say, but he was far from satisfied. He was thoroughly persuaded within himself that the story was true, and that Major Grafton was acting a fraudulent part. How could he find out?

He had not forgotten his visit to the office of Mr. Codicil, just before they left New York. He had seen enough, then, to be aware that between Major Grafton and the lawyer there were business relations, and he suspected that they referred to the boy whose place he had taken. This would seem to bear out and confirm the story told by the two ladies. Now, if he should write a letter to Mr. Codicil he might ascertain all he needed to know, and if all was as he suspected he could refuse having any further part in the conspiracy. He did not remember the exact location of Mr. Codicil's office, but he did remember his first name, and he judged rightly that a letter simply directed to the lawyer, and addressed New York, would be likely to reach him.

Major Grafton, after the interview between Ben and himself, watched our hero with ever-increasing suspicion. He felt that he was in the boy's power. An indiscreet revelation would overthrow the fabric of fraud which in his self-interest he had erected, and reduce him to earning a precarious living at the gaming-table. In the case of an average boy he would have been secure, from the boy's regard for his own interest; but he saw that Ben was a conscientious boy, of honorable impulses, and this disgusted him.

"The boy is dangerous," he decided. "I must place him where he can do no mischief."

When a man is thoroughly unprincipled he can always find ways and means for the carrying out of his iniquitous plans. Major Grafton experienced no difficulty in devising a method for staving off the threatened danger.

One day after a leisurely breakfast, during which Major Grafton had been unusually chatty and affable, he said:

"Philip, I have a pleasure in store for you."

"What is it, sir?"

"We are going to take a long drive into the country."

"Thank you, sir. I shall enjoy it."

Fifteen minutes afterward an open carriage drove into the court-yard of the hotel.

"Is this the carriage I ordered?" asked Major Grafton.

"It is for M. de Grafton," said the driver.

"But you are not the man I spoke to."

"No, it was my brother. He is obliged to stay at home; his wife is taken suddenly sick."

"Very well; you will no doubt answer the purpose equally well. Philip, take a seat inside."

Ben did so.

"Where shall I drive, monsieur?"

Major Grafton indicated the direction.

They drove over a broad, smooth road on the eastern shore of the lake. It was a charming drive, not alone on account of the smooth waters of the lake which were in constant view, but also on account of the distant mountains and the picturesque Swiss habitations which regaled their eyes.

They kept on uninterruptedly for nearly two hours, until Ben began to marvel at the length of the drive.

Finally they came in sight of a large, picturesquely situated house, surrounded by trees.

"We will descend here, Philip," said Major Grafton. "I want you to see this chateau."

"Is there anything interesting connected with it?" asked Ben.

"Yes, I believe Voltaire once lived here," answered Grafton.

"I always thought he lived at the Chateau de Ferney."

"He also lived here for a few months," said Major Grafton, shortly. "I think Calvin also lived here once."

Ben entered without suspicion. A suave, black-whiskered man welcomed them. He seemed to recognize Major Grafton, and was voluble in his protestations of joy at meeting them.

"Is this the boy you spoke of?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Grafton. "Philip," he said, "remain in this room a few minutes while I speak with M. Bourdon."

"Certainly, sir."

He waited fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes, and no one came back. Finally the door opened and the black-whiskered man made his appearance—alone.

"Where is Major Grafton?" asked Ben.

The other smiled craftily.

"He is gone, M. Philippe."

"Gone! and without me?"

"You are to live with me, my son."

"I don't understand you. What sort of a place is this?"

"It is a maison de fous."

Ben was horror-struck. He knew now that he was in a lunatic asylum. He could guess why he was placed there.