"I hear a great many strange stories," said the doctor. "I have to be cautious about what I believe."
"But surely you will believe me, knowing that I am perfectly sane?"
"That is the question to be determined," said M. Bourdon, smiling.
"Won't you investigate it?" pleaded Ben. "It is a crime to keep me here, when I am of sound mind."
"Whenever I am convinced of that I will let you go. Meanwhile you must be quiet, and submit to the rules of my establishment."
"How long do you expect to keep me here?" asked Ben.
"As long as you require it and your board is paid."
Ben looked despondent, for this assurance held out very little hope of release. Still he was young, and youth is generally hopeful. Something might turn up. Ben was determined that something should turn up. He was not going to remain shut up in a mad-house any longer than he could help. He remained silent, and M. Bourdon touched a little bell upon a small table beside the door.
The summons was answered by a stout man with rough, black locks, who looked like a hotel porter.