The next morning about eight o'clock, Nurse came to Mrs. Mandeville's
room, an expression of amazement, almost of consternation, on her face.
"What is it, Nurse? Is Master Carol worse?" Mrs. Mandeville asked in
alarm.
"No, ma'am; I cannot say he is worse. He says he is well, and wants to
get up for breakfast. He slept all through the night, just as you left
him, and never wakened till half-past seven this morning. He is
certainly not feverish or delirious, but he talks so strangely. He says
error has all gone, and he is free. I had quite a difficulty to prevent
him from getting out of bed to come to you. I have sent a messenger for
Dr. Burton."
"That is right, Nurse. Go back to him. I will come at once." Mrs.
Mandeville was not long slipping into a morning wrap, and following
Nurse to Carol's room.
As soon as she reached the bedside, he sprang up, and held her in a
close embrace, both arms round her neck. "Auntie, Auntie, isn't it
beautiful? I am free! Error has quite gone. I know Cousin Alicia has
had the telegrams now. You can rub your hand down my back. It does not
hurt me now, nor the bruises."
"Carol, dear, I cannot understand it. It seems so wonderful. I am
afraid you ought not to be sitting up like this."
"Oh, Auntie, there is nothing to be afraid about. Error cast out cannot
come back again. I am so hungry. I do want to get up to breakfast."
"Darling, you must lie still until Dr. Burton has seen you. I could not
consent for you to get up yet. It does indeed seem beautiful for you to
be so much better, I cannot realize it, and I cannot understand, Carol,
why Miss Desmond's prayers for you should be so quickly answered, when I
am sure I love you just as dearly. I prayed for you, and Uncle Raymond
prayed, yet--yet I cannot feel that our prayers helped you."
She had tenderly laid him back upon the pillow. She could not get rid
of the fear that it was not good for him to be using his back.
He was silent a few minutes, the old thoughtful expression on his face
which she knew so well. Then he said:
"Auntie, the sun was shining this morning long before Nurse drew aside
the curtains, and let the light into my room. Suppose while the curtain
was drawn I had kept saying, 'Please, dear sun, do shine into my room,
and send the darkness away.' It would have had no effect. It would
have been foolish, wouldn't it? Well, Auntie, the light of Truth, like
the sunlight is everywhere, but we can shut it out of our consciousness
by a curtain of false beliefs. Cousin Alicia has not asked God to make
me better. She has just known that God's child is always perfect. As
Nurse drew aside the curtain to let in the sunlight, she has drawn aside
the curtain of false beliefs that were around me, and then Truth came
and healed me. Jesus said 'the Truth shall make you free.' It is just
as true, Auntie, as if he had said, 'When light appears, darkness
disappears.' Wherever Truth appears, error shall flee away, because it
is not from God. It is the opposite of God's law. I love that beautiful
verse of the hymn more than I have ever loved it, because I can say
again:
'The healing of the seamless dress
Is by our beds of pain.'
Christ is Truth, and Truth is the Christ. I was asleep when he came to
me. But just as Jesus spoke to the angry waves the Christ has commanded
error, 'Peace, be still.' Oh, Auntie! cannot you believe I am quite
well? 'I am the Father's perfect child. I have the gift from God,
dominion over all.'"
She was longing to realize that it was as the boy said, and she had
nothing to fear. Yet it was difficult.
Dr. Burton was out when the messenger from the Manor went for him. He
had not returned from a night case to which he had been summoned. Mrs.
Burton promised that he would go immediately on his return. Shortly
after ten o'clock Dr. Burton arrived, expecting to find from the urgent
message that had reached him a change for the worse in his patient. He
was considerably taken aback as he entered the room to hear a ripple of
laughter, and the boy with a radiant face, sitting upright in bed, who,
the day before, had not been able to raise his head from the pillow.
"What does this mean?" Dr. Burton asked in a tone of voice in which
surprise became almost consternation.
"I cannot tell you anything, Doctor, except that Carol slept all night
and woke this morning feeling quite well and hungry. He has had a
fairly substantial breakfast," Mrs. Mandeville said. The doctor then
thoroughly examined him, felt his pulse, took his temperature, and when
he looked on the places where the terrible bruises had been, and saw
only a faint discoloration, he said:
"It is a miracle!"
"No, Doctor," said Carol, quietly, "it is Christian Science."
"Then what is Christian Science?" the doctor asked.
But the boy was silent. He could talk to his aunt on the subject, but
not to the doctor.
At that moment a maid brought a telegram to Mrs. Mandeville. It was
from Miss Desmond. She read it, and passed it on to Dr. Burton. It was
brief: "Letters and telegrams reached me 9.30 last evening. Regret
unavoidable delay. Kindly wire if all is well. Letter to Carol
follows." The doctor and Mrs. Mandeville simply looked at each other in
speechless wonderment, one thought engrossing them. It was shortly
after 9.30 the night before that Carol fell into the sleep from which he
had awakened well.
"It is at last a message from Cousin Alicia," Mrs. Mandeville then said
to Carol. "Our letters and telegrams did not reach her till 9.30 last
evening."
"Yes, Auntie, I knew it, and I know she has worked for me all night."
Both Mrs. Mandeville and the doctor would have liked to understand what
the boy meant by that one word "worked." But neither questioned him
then.
"I can get up now, Doctor, cannot I?" Carol asked.
"Yes, there is no reason that I can see for keeping you in bed. All the
same," turning to Mrs. Mandeville, "I should say he may as well be kept
fairly quiet for a day or two--not commence running races, or any other
juvenile sports."
"You can trust me, Doctor," Mrs. Mandeville remarked, smiling.
"It seems to me you should consult the lady who has worked for him all
night with such marvellous success. I can scarcely consider him my
patient now."
"Doctor, I thank you very much for all you tried to do for me. You were
very kind and gentle to me."
"Tut-tut, boy! Why, that's of course."
All the same the doctor was pleased with the boy's simple recognition of
his services. He would indeed have done more, had he been able. He
walked home slowly and thoughtfully, pondering that question, which he
had asked the boy, thinking of a lecture which he had given a few weeks
before in a crowded parish room; how he himself had answered the
question--What is Christian Science?--to the convulsive amusement of his
audience. He had dipped into a book--the text-book of Christian
Science--made copious extracts and so satisfied himself that he
understood the subject sufficiently to be able to warn people against
the teachings of Christian Science.
Mrs. Burton was watching for his return. She was anxious for news of the
boy, fearing the early message which had been sent for the doctor must
mean that he was worse. By her side, in the garden, seated in a little
wheel-chair, was her only child, a girl of ten, who after a fall
downstairs when she was five years old, causing an injury to her spine,
had lost the use of her legs. There seemed no hope of her ever being
able to walk again, since all the doctors who had seen her had not been
able to do anything for her.
"How is the boy?" asked Mrs. Burton, as the doctor entered the garden in
front of the house.
"He is well," was the brief reply.
"You don't mean?--" Mrs. Burton began in an alarmed tone.
"I mean exactly what I say--the boy is well."
"But, dear, how can that be, when he was so ill yesterday?"
"I cannot tell you. He says it is Christian Science. I say it is a
miracle."
"Father, he won't lose the use of his legs, will he?" the little girl
asked.
"No, Eloise, I think there will be no such effects from the fall, as
unhappily there were in your case."
"I am glad, Father, he is such a nice, kind boy!"
The child had grieved, fearing that he might be crippled like herself.
"Christian Science must be different from what you described at the
lecture, dear. Do you think I might go and see Carol? I should like to
hear from him what it is that has made him well so quickly. I owe Mrs.
Mandeville a call."
"Go and pay it, then. Perhaps the boy will talk to you. He did not
seem to care to answer my questions."
The doctor passed into the house with the thought that he would borrow
that book again, and see if he could get a better understanding of the
subject himself.