"Impossible, my dear sir—quite impossible, I assure you."
"I believe there is some trickery here," said the major, sternly. "I wish to see the boy."
Perspiration gathered on the brow of M. Bourdon, though it was a cool day. How could he stave off this visit? His wits came to the rescue.
"I greatly regret to tell you," he said, "that your ward is sick of a contagious disease. To see him would imperil your life."
Major Grafton was not a nervous man, and he was too much in earnest to be turned from his design.
"I am not afraid," he said; "I will see him."
"I will go and prepare him for your visit," said the doctor, sorely perplexed.
Five minutes had not elapsed when he returned in apparent consternation.
"My good sir," he said, "I have serious news. Your ward is not in his room. He must have escaped in the night."
"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the major, livid with passion. "Just now you told me he was sick with a dangerous malady; now you say he has escaped. I have a great mind to strangle you!" and he clutched the doctor by the collar.