"Never mind the ticket!" shouted the doctor. "Don't stop me. One of my patients is running away."
"I can't help it," said the guard, imperturbably. "Monsieur cannot pass without a ticket."
"But I don't want to go anywhere," roared M. Bourdon. "I want to see the passengers."
To the railway attendant this seemed a very curious request. He began to think the doctor, with his excitable manner, was insane. At any rate, he was obliged to obey the rules.
"Go back and buy a ticket, monsieur," he said, unmoved.
"But I don't want to go anywhere," protested M. Bourdon.
"Then go back!" And the official, placing his hand on the doctor's sacred person, thrust him forcibly aside.
"Fool! Dolt!" screamed M. Bourdon, who could hear the train starting.
"You must be crazy!" said the guard, shrugging his shoulders.
It was too late now. The train had actually gone, and M. Bourdon turned back, foiled, humiliated and wrathful. He regretted bitterly now that he had not let Francois off the evening before, as in that case Ben would not have had a chance to escape. Now he must lose the generous sum which Major Grafton had agreed to pay for his ward. It was more than he received for any other of his patients, for M. Bourdon, recognizing Ben's sanity, shrewdly surmised that the guardian had some special design in having his ward locked up, and took advantage of it to increase the weekly sum which he charged.