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!"