When Brum awoke, in bed again, after his long fainting-fit, he related
with surprise his vivid dream of St. Paul's, and Zillah weakly
acquiesced in the new deception, especially as the doctor warned her
against exciting the boy. But her hopes were brighter than ever; for
the old lady had beneficently appeared from behind a pillar in St.
Peter's to offer eau de Cologne for the unconscious Brum, and had
then, interesting herself in the couple, promised to procure for her
fellow-Catholics admission to the next Papal reception. Being a very
rich and fashionable old lady, she kept her word; but unfortunately,
when the day came round, Brum was terribly low and forbidden to leave
his bed.
Zillah was distracted. If she should miss the great chance after all!
It might never recur again.
"Brum," she said at last, "this is the only day for a long time that
the great eye-doctor receives patients. Do you think you could go, my
lamb?"
"Why won't he come here--like the other doctors?"
"He is too great."
"Well, I daresay I can manage. It's miserable lying in bed. Fancy
coming to Rome and seeing nothing!"
With infinite care Brum was dressed and wrapped up, and placed in a
specially comfortable brougham; and thus at last mother and son stood
waiting in one of the ante-chambers of the Vatican, amid twenty other
pilgrims whispering in strange languages. Zillah was radiantly
assured: the mighty Power, whatever it was, that spoke in music and in
mountains, would never permit such weary journeyings and waitings to
end in the old darkness; the malice of witches could not prevail
against this great spirit of sunshine. For Brum, too, the long
pilgrimage had enveloped the doctor with a miraculous glamour as of an
eighth wonder of the world.
Drooping wearily on his mother's arm, but wrought up to joyous
anticipation, Brum had an undoubting sense of the patient crowd around
him waiting, as in his old hospital days, for admission to the
doctor's sanctum. His ear was strung for the ting-ting of the bell
summoning the sufferers one by one.
At last a wave of awe swept over the little fashionable gathering, and
set Zillah's heart thumping and the room fading in mist, through which
the tall, venerable, robed figure, the eagle features softened in
benediction, gleamed like a god's. Then she found herself on her
knees, with Brum at her side, and the wonderful figure passing between
two rows of reverent pilgrims.
"Why must I kneel, mother?" murmured Brum feebly.
"Hush! hush!" she whispered. "The great doc--" she hesitated in awe of
the venerable figure--"the great healer is here."
"The great healer!" breathed Brum. His face was transfigured with
ecstatic forevision. "'Who openeth the eyes of the blind,'" he
murmured, as he fell forward in death.
* * * * *