style="font-size:15px;"> “He is at the hotel in Poplar Plains,” answered Mr. Snowdon eagerly. “He has abducted a pupil of mine. I will go back with you. We shall get Bernard after all, Septimus.”
Both carriages started at a good rate of speed for Poplar Plains, Mr. Snowdon’s face wreathed with triumphant smiles.
CHAPTER VII. AN UNEXPECTED CHAMPION
Bernard posted himself at a point where he could watch the hotel. When he saw the departure of Septimus and his father he made his way back and rejoined Mr. Penrose.
“The coast is clear,” said his elder companion, with a smile. “Thanks to you I have had an interview with my old teacher.”
“Did he remember you?”
“No; and he seemed very touchy on the subject of his experiences in Illinois.”
“Do you think he will come after me again?”
“I don’t know, but he certainly appeared very desirous of getting you back. His son seemed to sympathize with him. Is he a friend of yours?”
“Septimus loves me like a brother,” laughed Bernard. “He was very anxious to have his father give me a horsewhipping. I shall feel glad to get a little farther away from Doncaster and Snowdon Institute.”
“We will go to-morrow morning. I should like to rest here one day.”
The two were seated on the piazza when Bernard, chancing to look up, exclaimed in alarm, “There’s Mr. Snowdon coming back. He is nearly here. There is another carriage behind.”
Mr. Penrose looked up quickly, and Bernard saw that he turned pale.
“The carriage behind,” he said, “contains my cousin, the man who is trying to have me adjudged insane, and the two men with him are doubtless doctors, medical quacks, whom he has hired to certify to my insanity.”
“Good heavens! Then, you are in as great danger as I.”
“Greater,” answered Mr. Penrose, in a low, suppressed tone.
“Can they take you?”
“Not legally, but they will try.”
“Let us escape while we can.”
“No; it would seem to bear out their charges. Besides, they are too near. I will stand my ground. You can get away if you like.”
“No; I will stand by you, Mr. Penrose,” said Bernard firmly.
The two remained seated till the carriage halted in front of the hotel.
“Aha!” said the cousin triumphantly, “we have run our fugitive to earth.”
He jumped out of the carriage, and advanced to the piazza.
“So you are here?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered Penrose calmly.
“You escaped my vigilance, and fled from Buffalo.”
“Stop there, James Roque! You speak as if I were not a free agent.”
“You are not. You are insane, and you know it.”
“I know why you want to make me out insane. You want to get possession of my property.”
“It is unsafe in your hands. A lunatic isn’t fit to manage property.”
“I am no lunatic, nor would you try to prove me so, if I were poor. Why did you pursue me?”
“Because you are not fit to be at large.”
“I am as sane as you are. Your unprincipled attempt to deprive me of my liberty shows that you ought to be locked up.”
“Of course I may be wrong, but I am willing to abide by the verdict of experts. I have brought with me two distinguished physicians, who will examine you, and decide whether you are or are not in your right mind. Dr. Brown and Dr. Jones, will you kindly approach and give your opinion as to the condition of my unfortunate cousin?”
The two doctors descended from the carriage and approached the piazza. They were dressed in shabby black, and eyed Penrose furtively. Brown was the first to speak.
“Your cousin,” he said, “affords every indication of insanity. What say you, Dr. Jones?”
“I fully agree with you,” replied Dr. Jones, in a nasal tone.
“I see, gentlemen, you have got the whole thing cut and dried,” said William Penrose, in a tone of agitation. “These tools of yours have learned their part well. All they need is to look at me to pronounce me insane. Even a renowned doctor would hardly venture to come to so quick a decision merely from a momentary inspection.”
“They have both been connected with establishments for the insane. I have called them as experts who cannot be deceived.”
“What do you pay them for aiding and abetting you in this villainy?”
By this time Mr. Wilson, the landlord, appeared upon the scene. He looked from one to the other in surprise.
“What does all this mean?” he asked.
“Merely that you have been harboring a lunatic,” said James Roque.
“Who is a lunatic?”
“William Penrose.”
“I cannot believe it.”
“It is hard to believe. Like all of his class he is very cunning. Why, should you keep him here, he might set fire to your house during the night.”
“Is this true?” asked the landlord, who was a timid man.
“It is a base lie!” exclaimed Penrose indignantly. “Don’t believe him. He wants to have me adjudged insane that he may get control of my property.”
The landlord looked bewildered.
“Is that true?” he repeated doubtfully.
“No, it is a lie. My poor cousin has no property. He is dependent upon me. I am willing to pay his expenses in an asylum, and this is his return.”
“Heaven give me patience!” ejaculated Penrose. “This black villain is lying in an infamous manner. He is himself a man of no means, and wants to get possession of my fortune.”
“Dr. Brown, is this true?” asked James Roque, turning to his subservient tool.
“No,” answered Brown, shaking his head.
“The man doesn’t know me,” said Mr. Penrose in a tone of contempt. “I never saw him before.”
“I used to go to school with him,” retorted Brown, unabashed.
“I see you are determined to lie it out.”
“I appeal to my distinguished brother, Dr. Jones.”
“You
