CHAPTER XIII.--THE RECTOR'S REFUSAL.
Mrs. Mandeville remained with Carol throughout the day, suffering no oneto relieve her for one hour. As soon as he was told the telegram hadbeen sent to Miss Desmond, he rested quite satisfied. But as the daywore on to evening, Mrs. Mandeville, standing over him, saw he wassuffering acutely.
"You are in pain, darling," she said.
"Auntie, please don't ask me. I am trying to deny it. Couldn't youdeny it for me, too?"
His lips were quivering; tears he strove bravely to keep back werestealing down his cheeks. How could she deny it? She would have givenanything to be able to do so.
"Cousin Alicia must have had the telegram by this, Auntie, mustn't she?"
"Yes, dear; I think so. Being Sunday, it has taken longer to getthrough. Uncle has heard from the postmaster at W--, the nearest town,as the village telegraph office would be closed. The message has beensent on by messenger on horseback. So I think Miss Desmond must havereceived it by this time."
"She might have been out when it arrived, Auntie."
"Do you expect to feel less pain, dear, when Miss Desmond receives thetelegram?"
"Yes, Auntie, I know I shall."
Seven o'clock--eight o'clock--nine o'clock passed. No reply telegramcame. Mrs. Mandeville wrote a letter to go by the evening post, givingmore details, and describing Carol's great desire to have a message fromher. Dr. Burton came again at night. His instructions had been carriedout. The medicine sent had been given every hour. Still the patient'stemperature was higher, the pain he was suffering more acute, and thesymptoms which pointed to meningitis more pronounced. "If he couldsleep--a long natural sleep might save him," Dr. Burton said.
During the night Mrs. Mandeville was persuaded to take a little rest ona couch in the room, whilst Nurse and Colonel Mandeville kept watchbeside the bed. Carol offered no opposition to anything that was donefor him, and drank the medicine without a murmur, when the spoon was putto his lips.
In the morning, when Mrs. Mandeville was again alone with him, he said,"Auntie, I wonder why it hurts me to try to think. I tried so hard to goto sleep in the night and I could not. Then I began to think aboutJesus when he was a little boy. We are not told that he was ever ill,and had to lie in bed, are we? But I felt quite sure, if he ever did,he would do just what his mother wanted him to do, wouldn't he? I knowmedicine and the bandages are not doing me any good, but it makes youhappy for me to have them, doesn't it, Auntie?"
"Yes, darling; it seems all that we can do for you."
"If you understood Science, you could help me now, Auntie."
"Indeed then, I wish that I did, Carol."
"Sometimes the room seems to go dark, Auntie. In the night, two orthree times, it was just as if the lamp went out, then lighted upagain." Mrs. Mandeville understood enough to know this was very grave.
"Darling, will you try to lie quite still, and close your eyes--try notto think about anything?"
"Yes, Auntie, but I do hope a message will come from Cousin Aliciato-day. You will tell me when it comes, won't you?"
"Instantly, dear."
"I wish I could go to sleep, Auntie."
"I wish so too, my poor, dear boy."
"Could you move me a tiny bit, Auntie? I ache so lying in the sameposition. It seems so strange not to be able to move myself at all.Error seems very real."
Gently and lovingly, she tried to ease his position, but the least touchbrought an expression of acute pain. She had to desist.
The long weary hours of that day passed, but no message, either atelegram or letter, came from Miss Desmond. Another wire was sent,asking for a reply. Still none came. Then, later on in the evening, amessage was sent addressed to the housekeeper at Willmar Court, whichquickly brought a reply: "Miss Desmond away. Impossible to forwardmessages."
Mrs. Mandeville told Carol very gently. He did not speak for some time,and, though he lay with closed eyes, she knew he was not sleeping.
Then he looked up at her:
"Auntie, when Jesus was in the boat, and the winds arose, and the wavessurged high around the little boat, Jesus didn't command them at once tobe still. The disciples had to awake him, and he rebuked them for theirlittle faith. Shouldn't they have waited patiently, knowing it was allright? Sometimes it seems error has bound me with ropes, and I cannotmove; sometimes it seems like waves washing over me. But I know thatLove is saying to error's angry waves, 'Thus far, and no farther.' Andjust at the right moment the command will come: '_Peace, be still_.'"
Mrs. Mandeville hid her face in the pillow beside him, that he might notsee the tears streaming from her eyes. She had lost again the faithwhich for a time had uplifted her to a realization of God's power tosave the boy from death. In imagination she saw a new little grave inthe churchyard with that word "Peace" graven in the marble headstone.She had been anxious for news from Miss Desmond because Carol wished itso much. She had little hope or faith that injuries, such as his, couldin any way be alleviated by Miss Desmond's knowledge of ChristianScience. The night passed again, and not for one hour did sleep closethe suffering boy's eyes. He had been unconscious for a time, murmuringincoherently; but it was not sleep.
Dr. Burton said very little when he came in the morning; he only lookedgraver and sadder. By telegram he had been in constant communicationwith Sir Wilfrid Wynne, and he knew that, humanly speaking, nothing morecould be done for the boy than was being done. Yet there was noprogress.
"How I wish there was something I could do for you, Carol!" Mrs.Mandeville said, as she sat beside him.
"Auntie, there is something, if Uncle Raymond will let you have it. Iknow I should fall asleep if you read _Science and Health_ to me. Ialways used to when I was ill before, and Cousin Alicia read it to me,even before I began to understand it."
"I will go to the rectory at once, dear, and ask Uncle for the book.Promise me to lie with closed eyes; and try not even to think aboutanything whilst I am away."
She would not write, nor send a message, fearing a refusal. As soon asNurse came to take her place she left the room, and the house. There wasa path through the park direct to the rectory. It was less than tenminutes' walk.
The Rector looked up in astonishment as his sister, hatless and coatless(it was a chilly September day), entered the room. "What is it,Emmeline? Is Carol worse?" he asked. Her flushed, distressed facesuggested the question.
"I do not know if he is worse. He is just as ill as he can be, and issuffering cruelly. I want you to let me have that book you took fromhim, Raymond, _Science and Health_. He thinks if I read it to him hewill fall asleep. He has not slept yet, and this is the third day sincethe accident." The Rector's face, which before had been grave andkindly, now grew stern and resolute. "I am sorry, Emmeline, but Icannot let you have it. That book will never pass from my hands to hisas long as I am his guardian. He knows too much already of itspernicious doctrines. Better better--anything than that his faith inits teachings should be strengthened."
"Do you mean better that he should die, Raymond?"
"Yes, Emmeline, better that--even that."
"Oh, Raymond, how can you hold such a thought? I do not know what thebook is nor what it teaches. But I do know what is the fruit of it; andwho was it said, 'A tree is known by its fruit; a corrupt tree cannotbring forth good fruit'?"
"We need not discuss that, Emmeline. We both know whose words those are.Still, I maintain that the teachings of that book, being pernicious,cannot bring forth good fruit."
"But, Raymond, is not gentleness, faith and love--such as Carol's--goodfruit? Jesus to him did not live two thousand years ago. He is livingto-day. He is looking to him, as the disciples looked, when the stormarose at sea. His love and his faith are beautiful to witness. I havealways tried to teach my children the love of God, but Carol possessessomething I have not been able to give them, because I do not possess itmyself. I think it is understanding. He seems to understand the Biblemuch be
tter than I do."
"I am sorry to hear you speak like this, Emmeline. In any difficultywhy do you not come to me? Surely there are books enough here toexplain, or to throw a light on anything that is not clear to you."
The Rector looked round at his well-filled book-shelves: old books andnew books; works of the early Fathers and the latest theologicaltreatise.
"I cannot explain what it is I want, Raymond. I only know I always seemto be groping after something, and I cannot find it. But when I amtalking to Carol, I seem nearer to it. Raymond, won't you let me havethat book--just for to-day--I will return it to you to-morrow?"
"No, Emmeline. Not for one hour."
"You are cruel, Raymond, when the boy is suffering so, and it is all heasks you. If there were a shop near where I could buy a copy, I wouldstraightway do so. I will know for myself what the book teaches. Ishall write to Miss Desmond, and ask her to get me a copy."
"Of course, Emmeline, if you choose to do that, I have no control overyour actions. I have over Carol's, and I shall exercise it."
Then Mrs. Mandeville broke down and burst into tears. "Perhaps youwon't have power long. Oh, Raymond! You do not realize how ill he is!If meningitis sets in, Dr. Burton says it will be a matter of only a fewhours. If I were asking for a Buddhist or a Mohammedan book, it wouldbe right for you to let me have it."
"No, my dear sister. I am not a believer in the doctrine that the endjustifies the means. I will pray for Carol, and for you too. I am sorryto see you so overwrought."
"Then you absolutely refuse, Raymond?"
"I do, Emmeline--absolutely."
Without a word Mrs. Mandeville turned and left the room.
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