Jr. Horatio Alger

A Midnight Escape.

For three days Ben passed a dull, uniform existence, being most of the time confined to his chamber. To a boy of active temperament it was most irksome. If he only had something to read, the hours would pass more swiftly. Fortunately, on the second day, he bethought himself of Francois, who seemed friendly.

"Francois," he said, "can't you get me something to read?"

"I don't know," said the attendant, doubtfully. "What would monsieur like?"

"Anything you can find. I would prefer a story."

"I will try, monsieur."

The next time Francois made his appearance he held in his hand a tattered edition of a popular novel.

"Will that do?" he asked.

Ben had never heard of the book, but on opening its pages it looked attractive, and he answered:

"Yes, Francois, I am much obliged to you."

He thought it politic, remembering that he might need other favors, to put a franc piece into the hand of the friendly attendant.

Francois brightened up. His wages were so small that these little gratuities were very welcome.

"Would monsieur like something else?" he inquired.

"There is one thing I would like very much, Francois," answered Ben.

"What is that, monsieur?"

"To get out of this place."

"But monsieur is insane."

"I am no more insane than you are. Do I look insane?"

"No; but one cannot always tell."

"I would give a hundred francs to any one who would get me out of this," said Ben, not, however, expecting to produce much impression on the mind of his auditor.

"A hundred francs!" repeated Francois, his eyes sparkling.

But in a moment he looked sober.

"It would not do. I should be discharged," he said.

"Think it over, Francois," said Ben.

The attendant did not answer, but the suggestion had borne fruit.

It may be asked how Ben had so much money. It may be explained that he was about to send a remittance home, having received a payment from Major Grafton, but his unexpected arrival at the refuge had prevented him. He had with him two hundred francs, or about forty dollars in gold.

Something happened on the third day which worked favorably for Ben's hopes of securing the active assistance of Francois. About dusk a boy appeared at the gate of the asylum, and asked to see Francois.

When the two were brought together, he said:

"I came from your wife. She wishes you to come home. The child—little Marie—is very sick."

Poor Francois was much disturbed. In a little cottage five miles away lived his wife and his only child, Marie. The poor fellow was deeply attached to his child, for it must be remembered that the poor and simple-minded are quite as apt to have as strong affections as the richer and more favored.

"Is she very bad, Jean?" he asked, quite pale.

"Yes," answered Jean. "I think she is out of her head. She keeps moaning. Her poor mother is very much frightened."

"I will ask if I can come," said Francois, and he straightway sought out the doctor.

"I would like to speak to you, M. Bourdon," he said.

"Speak quick, then, for I am busy," said the doctor, gruffly, for something had happened to disturb him.

"Jean Gault has just told me that my little Marie is very sick, and my wife wants me to come home. If I could go now, I would come back in the morning."

"Well, you can't go," said the doctor, harshly.

"But, Monsieur le Docteur, do you understand that my child—my little Marie—is very sick? She moans, and is out of her head, and I may never see her again, if I don't go."

"Plague take your little Marie!" said M. Bourdon, brutally. "What have I to do with her? I want you to stay here. You know very well that you can't be spared."

"But," protested Francois, indignantly, "do you think because I am poor that I have no feeling? You are very much mistaken. I cannot stay away and let poor Marie die without seeing her."

"You can't go, at all events," said M. Bourdon, roughly.

"I cannot go?"

"No; or, if you do, you will lose your place. I cannot have my men going away on every silly pretext. I don't believe your child is sick at all."

"But Jean Gault is below. He has brought word from my wife."

"I dare say it is all planned between you."

"Then you will not let me go?"

"No, I won't. If you go, you lose your place. I shall not take you back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," said Francois, slowly.

"Then you can go. We have had words enough about this."

If the doctor had not been irritated he would have been careful how he dealt with Francois, who was the most valuable man in his employ. But when we are irritated we lose sight of what is politic, and are apt to make grievous mistakes, as M. Bourdon certainly did on this occasion.

Francois sought out little Jean.

"Jean," he said, "go home and tell my wife that I will come some time to-night. The doctor has forbidden me to go, but I shall go, all the same. Be sure you tell no one else."

"Very well, Francois," answered the boy.

"Tell my wife I may be late, but I will surely come."

The boy went away, and Francois went up to Ben's room.

"Monsieur, I have something to say to you," he commenced.

"What is it, Francois?"

"You said you would give a hundred francs to any one who would get you out of this?"

"Yes, Francois," answered Ben, quickly.

"Have you so much money with you, then?" asked Francois, doubtfully.

"See here!" and Ben took out five napoleons, which he displayed in his open palm.

The attendant's eyes sparkled.

"And you will give them to me, if perchance I set you free?"

"Yes."

"Listen, then. I would not do it, but my little Marie is very sick, and my wife wants me to come home. Perhaps she may die;" and the poor fellow suppressed a sob. "But M. Bordon—that is the doctor—he says I shall not go. He said 'Plague take your child!'" continued Francois, wrathfully.

"Poor Francois," said Ben compassionately.

"Ah! you feel for me, little monsieur," said Francois, gratefully. "The doctor has a heart like a stone. He says if I go I shall not come back; but I do not care, I cannot stay away. I will go, and you shall go with me. Can you walk five miles?"

"I can walk ten—fifteen, if necessary," said Ben, promptly.

"Then be ready at midnight. We will go together. It will not do to go earlier. Then the doctor will be asleep. Every one else will be asleep, and we can go away unobserved. M. Bourdon will be sorry that he did not let me go. I promised to come back." And Francois's eyes sparkled with honest indignation.

Ben's heart beat high with hope.

"You will come to my room at midnight?" he said.

"Yes, monsieur."

"I will be ready."

"One thing, monsieur. Do not have your shoes on. You can carry them in your hand. We must not make any noise when we are going down stairs, or we may be caught."

"That is well thought of, Francois. Depend upon me. I will be ready."

It will easily be supposed that Ben did not go to bed. He sat waiting patiently hour after hour till, as midnight struck, his door was softly opened, and Francois appeared.

"Now," said the attendant, "follow me, and make no noise."

Ben, in his stocking feet, followed the attendant down stairs. Producing a large key, Francois opened the outside door, then closed it softly, and they stood outside under a star-lit sky.