A Soldier's Son Part 6

"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 pa.s.sed 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.

CHAPTER XVII.

--MRS. BURTON VISITS CAROL.

Shortly after the doctor left Carol's room, the maid entered to say the Rector was downstairs. Could he come up?

"I will speak with the Rector before he comes upstairs," Mrs. Mandeville said, and left the room for that purpose.

The news had reached the Rector that Dr. Burton had been sent for early that morning, and he also surmised that the boy must be worse. But the servants had a.s.sured him that such was not the case before Mrs. Mandeville joined him in the library.

"What is this I hear about Carol, Emmeline? He is not worse, yet you sent for Dr. Burton before breakfast. I felt quite alarmed."

"We could not understand it, Raymond. I must confess to feeling afraid it was not true. Carol is quite well. Dr. Burton admits it. He says it is a miracle. Carol says it is Christian Science. Dear Raymond, I want to beg you before you see Carol not to say anything to shake his faith. It is so beautiful."

"His faith in what? In that heresy called Christian Science, which is neither Science nor Christian?"

"Oh, Raymond, I cannot help thinking you are mistaken in your judgment. I do not, as I told you before, quite understand what Christian Science is, but this I know, I have never met a character so Christ-like as Carol's. All day yesterday he lay in such pain from those terrible bruises, and the injury to his spine and head, that we could not move him in the effort to ease his position without increasing the pain. To-day it is all gone. What has taken it away? He says the Christ--Truth has come to him and healed him. If we believe Jesus' words: 'Lo, I am with you always even to the end of the world'--why should it not be true? Cannot the spiritual Christ say as Jesus so often said, 'According to your faith be it unto you'?"

"Of course! But that is not Christian Science."

"Yes, Raymond, that is what Carol seems to have learned from Christian Science. Heaven to him is not a far-off locality, it is here--all around him, and G.o.d is ever-present Love. His one thought--his one desire seems to be to possess that Mind which was also in Christ Jesus. What can you say against such teaching?"

The Rector had evidently nothing to say. He remarked briefly, "If I may, I will go up and see the boy now. I am pressed for time."

"Yes, Raymond, he will be pleased to see you."

She let him go alone, and did not afterwards inquire what had pa.s.sed between the boy and his uncle.

Later in the day Mrs. Mandeville took Percy to Carol's room. The boy had begged so frequently to be allowed to see his cousin. "Just to tell him I am sorry," he said.

Carol had forgotten all about it.

"Sorry for what, dear Percy?" he inquired, when Percy, in faltering accents, asked to be forgiven.

"Oh, I think I remember now, Percy, you said something that was not quite kind, but I knew at the time that you did not mean it. So why should we remember any more about it?"

"You are just the bravest fellow I know, Carol. I have told all the boys at school how you stood and faced the bull. They think a tremendous lot of you for it. So it won't matter when you come with us if you can't play football or cricket. You will be the hero of the school."

Then Mrs. Mandeville left the boys together for a little while. Percy was only too delighted to be able to tell Carol of all that was happening at school, the matches that had been played, and those that were to come off shortly.

When Mrs. Burton called that same afternoon, she expressed her great desire to see and talk with Carol. Mrs. Mandeville readily a.s.sented, remarking that she felt sure Carol would be delighted to see her. As there were other visitors present, she was not able to accompany her herself. A maid therefore conducted her to Carol's room. Nurse was sitting with him. As Mrs. Burton intimated that she had come to have a little talk with Master Carol, she left the room.

"Eloise sends her love to you, dear Carol. She is so happy to know you are so wonderfully better. We feared so much that you, too, might be crippled for life, as she has been, by a fall. The spinal concussion caused her to lose the use of her legs. We have consulted the first specialists, but they have never been able to do anything for her. When the doctor told me this morning how miraculously you have been healed, I felt I must come and ask you to tell me something about it. Tell me, dear Carol, what is Christian Science?"

The boy looked up, but not at Mrs. Burton. That far-away dreamy look came to his eyes, which his cousins knew so well. It was such a big question to try to answer. It seemed minutes before he spoke. Then he said: "I think Christian Science means knowledge--a knowledge of G.o.d; and as we gain this knowledge we draw nearer to Him. Cousin Alicia used to tell me we are all G.o.d's children, but we have wandered so far away from Him. We are prodigals, dwelling in that far country where we are fed, like the swine, on husks. Christian Science just teaches us the way back to our Father's house; and as we find the road and walk in it, we lose the evils that tormented us. Jesus was our elder brother who never left his Father's house. Although he lived on earth, it was still his Father's house, because he lived always in the consciousness of good. And that is what we have to try to do. It seemed easier when I was with Cousin Alicia."

There was just a note of sadness and regret in the boy's voice.

"What a beautiful thought, Carol, 'living in the consciousness of good.' But, dear, how can we do it, with sickness, sorrow, and sin, all around? When I look at my wee girlie, I can never know joy or happiness; her young life to be so cruelly blighted through the carelessness of a maid. Every child I see running about free and happy is like a dagger in my heart, as I know that she should be the same."

"When Cousin Alicia came from America after my mother's death, I was very ill, and the doctors said I could never be better. But she knew that I could. She said, 'You are G.o.d's child, dear Carol, and all G.o.d's children are spiritual, and therefore perfect. Awake from this dream of suffering and pain.' Every day she used to talk to me, until she led me to understand what it is to live in the consciousness of good, and then I was well."

"Oh, Carol, it seems too wonderful to be true! Do you think that something might be done for my little girl?"

"Why, of course. I am sure if you will take her to my home, Cousin Alicia will teach her as she taught me. She is always so happy to teach people about Christian Science. Shall I write and tell her you will take Eloise to her?"

"Thank you, dear Carol, but I think, perhaps, before you write, I must ask Dr. Burton. If he is willing, I will gladly take my little girl to Miss Desmond."

Mrs. Burton did not stay much longer. On leaving, she tenderly kissed Carol. "Dear boy, you have given me hope. You cannot think what it has been to a mother's heart to be so long hopeless," she said.

The little crippled Eloise was watching from her nursery window for her mother's return. Mrs. Burton went straight to her.

"Have you seen Carol, Mother?" she asked.

"Yes, darling, and I have had such a sweet talk with him. He has made me so happy. I seem to see you running about like other children."

"Oh, Mother, wouldn't that be lovely! And is he really well?"

"It seems so, dear. Mrs. Mandeville is keeping him quietly in his own room to-day. But he seemed so well and happy. He wants me to take you into Devons.h.i.+re to stay with his cousin. He says she will teach us what she has taught him--and then--Oh, Eloise, my darling, you, too, would be well and strong, no longer a little crippled girl."

"What is it, Mother, that he has been taught?"

"It seems something so wonderful and beautiful, dear. He says that dwelling in the consciousness of good is dwelling in our Father's house, but, like the prodigal son in the parable, we have wandered away into that far country where all sorts of evils can befall us. My girlie, we will try to find our way together into this happy understanding of good which causes the fetters to fall. I will speak to Father to-night and ask him to let me take you."

"Do--do, please, Mother."

Mrs. Burton waited that evening until it was past the hour for patients to call at the surgery. Then she went to her husband's consulting-room.

The doctor was sitting at his desk, an open letter before him. His pen was in his hand, but he was not writing. The answer to the letter seemed to require much thought. It was only partly written.

"Are you very busy, dear?" Mrs. Burton said, softly twining one arm around his neck. She was almost nervous. It was a great request she was about to proffer. She did not quite know how it would be received.

"Not particularly, love, if you want anything. What is it?"

"I want to tell you I had a beautiful talk with Carol this afternoon, and he is so kind as to ask me to take Eloise to stay with his cousin at his home in Devons.h.i.+re, that she--that she might teach us what she has taught him. You know, dear, we have done everything we can--there is no other hope for her."

"And you think there may be hope in this--Christian Science?"

"I feel sure of it--since I have seen Carol."

The doctor smiled. The humor of the situation struck him. He pointed to the open letter on his desk.

"That letter," he said, "is from the Vicar of B-- asking me to give in his Parish Room the lecture which I gave at B--."

"Oh!" There was an accent of pain in Mrs. Burton's voice. "You are not going to?"

"Why do you object? The lecture was well received, you remember."

"Yes, but even at the time when the people laughed and applauded, it seemed to hurt me. I couldn't help thinking if these people, who call themselves Christian Scientists, believe so absolutely in the Christ healing, it was what the early Christians believed, and practised, and they were persecuted. When Christ spoke to Saul of Tarsus, he did not say, 'Why persecutest thou my followers?' He said 'Why persecutest thou me?'

"So I felt that night that the laughter and ridicule of all in the room were as stones thrown not at people, but at the Christ. Don't tell me, dear, that you are going to give that lecture again."

"I am not. That boy's radiant face would come between me and any audience I might think to address. I have commenced a letter to the Vicar, telling him I feel I cannot lecture on the subject again."

"And I may take Eloise to Willmar Court?"

"You may. Should she regain the use of her legs, as a result of the visit, I will espouse the Cause I once derided. After witnessing Carol's marvellous recovery, it does not seem impossible."

CHAPTER XVIII.

--HAPPY THOUGHTS.

After Mrs. Burton left Carol, Edith came and had tea with him, and after tea all his cousins were allowed to visit him for a little time. They could not understand how the sadness and gloom in the house had been dispelled. It was like the sun s.h.i.+ning through clouds on a rainy day. He was so bright and happy, just their own dear Carol again. There was one subject of which he never spoke to his cousins; so they could not know why, the day before, the house was hushed, and he could not be seen because he was so ill, and to-day there seemed nothing at all the matter with him.

When Mrs. Mandeville went the round of the children's rooms after dinner, she found Carol waiting for her in the old way, just as if there had been no break, no agony of sorrow and suspense.

"I hoped to find you asleep, darling," she said. "Has it been too much excitement having so many in your room?"

"Oh, no, Auntie. I loved to see them all again. I have had such happy thoughts. Isn't it nice to be kept awake by happy thoughts? Happy thoughts are good thoughts, and good thoughts come from G.o.d. Shall I tell you, Auntie, dear, what I have been thinking about?"

"Wouldn't it be better to tell me in the morning, dearie? It is rather late for a little boy who was an invalid only yesterday to be kept awake even by happy thoughts."

"I would rather tell you to-night, Auntie. You do not quite understand, do you, that when error is cast out, it is done with, and we do not need to remember anything about it."

"Then tell me, love, what you have been thinking about."

"I began first of all, Auntie, thinking about Peter."

Mrs. Mandeville's thoughts at once went to the stables, where one of the horses was named Peter.

"Peter, dear?" Just a note of surprise in her voice.

"Yes, Auntie, when Jesus called Peter to come to him on the water, at first he was not afraid, and he got out of the boat to go to him. Then he began to be afraid, and as soon as fear crept in, he began to sink. Auntie, I was just like that. At first I was not afraid of the bull. I knew G.o.d had given me dominion, and I was trying to realize it. Then the moment I began to be afraid, the bull tossed me. As I was thinking of this perhaps I fell asleep, and it was a dream. But it was so real. I seemed to see Peter standing by the bed, but he didn't look like the picture in the stained-gla.s.s window, and he spoke so kindly and gently. 'Little brother,' he said, 'you have not learned to trust the Master yet.' It was just as if he remembered there was a time when his faith had failed. I wanted to ask him something, but he was not there, and I was quite wide awake. May it perhaps be, Auntie, that as Christ 'walks life's troubled angry sea,' they are with him, those disciples who were always with Jesus, especially Peter, and James, and John; and they are working now, doing his bidding, as they did it in Galilee, watching over and helping those who are still fighting?"

"It may be, Carol, we cannot tell. It seems that events which happened two thousand years ago are to you but as yesterday."

"Why, yes, Auntie; time in G.o.d's kingdom is not measured by years and weeks and months. I shall just love now to think about Peter, and know that my faith will grow stronger, as his did. There are many people who would not have been afraid of the bull. Cousin Alicia told me of a lady in India who, one day, came quite close to a cobra. But she was not afraid, and as she stood quite still and looked at it, the cobra coiled itself into a heap and went to sleep. Then she told me of a gentleman who was shooting game in Africa, and once he was in a position when he could not fire, and a leopard was only a few yards from him, but the animal did not attack him, it ran away into the desert. The lady and the gentleman knew and realized that they had dominion; I hope I shall understand it better some day, and not be afraid of anything."

"You have been taught some strange things, Carol, still they are beautiful; it seems almost too beautiful to be true."

"Oh, Auntie, nothing can be too beautiful to be true, because only good, and good is always beautiful, is real; evil, and evil is always ugly, is unreal."

"Carol, darling, I wish I could believe that. You are leading me in strange paths. I must not let you talk any more to-night. I am quite sure that it is time a little boy, who has lost so much sleep lately, tried to make up for it."

But as she bent over him to kiss him, he clung both arms around her neck, keeping her a willing captive for some minutes longer.

"Auntie, I am so longing for Cousin Alicia's letter," were his last words as she left the room.

CHAPTER XIX.

--THE REASON OF THE DELAY.

The next morning Carol rose at his usual time, and breakfasted with his cousins in the school-room. Miss Markham looked at him with puzzled eyes, especially when he told her he was quite ready to begin lessons again. She could not understand it. There seemed to be some mystery connected with his marvellous recovery from what everybody believed to be serious injuries. She took the opportunity, when his cousins were out of the room, to ask him quietly, "What has made you well so quickly, Carol?"

"Ask Auntie, please, Miss Markham, I am not allowed to talk about it," he replied. Miss Markham's wonderment was considerably increased, for Mrs. Mandeville had only told her, when the boy first came to the Manor, that he had been taught religious tenets which were altogether unorthodox. She did not then connect that remark with the boy's quick recovery. He often made remarks which surprised her. Sometimes she pondered over a remark he had made, and found there was more in it than at first had appeared. If she attempted to draw him out by questions, he became strangely silent and reserved. Once, it was during a history lesson, Carol exclaimed, "But evil could have no power, Miss Markham, if everyone knew that G.o.d--good--governs. If we had no belief in evil, evil could not hurt us."

Thinking over the words afterwards, Miss Markham admitted to herself that to acknowledge the omnipotence of G.o.d, must deprive evil of any power. But she wondered how it was Carol had come to see it so clearly. She could not, however, draw him to talk any more on the subject. After breakfast Mrs. Mandeville came to the school-room with the longed-for letter in her hand, and, as permission was readily given, Carol went to his own room to read it. Eagerly he broke open the envelope, and read: "WILLMAR COURT, SOUTH DEVON.

"My dear, dear Carol, "The telegram in answer to mine this morning has just arrived. I waited for it before commencing my letter to you. I rejoice for you, Truth has triumphed, error has fallen. When I returned to the Court last night, after being absent since Sat.u.r.day afternoon, I found telegrams and letters awaiting me. On learning that the first telegram asking for help for you was more than three days old, I had to fight error on my own account, before I could fight it on yours. How quick error is to find the weak parts of our armor. My human love for you, darling, opened wide the portals, and a crowd of wrong thoughts rushed in. I found myself wondering why it should have so happened that I should be away, when I seemed most wanted, and under circ.u.mstances which made it impossible for the telegrams to be sent on.

"Then, in this sudden tempest of doubts and fears which had rushed upon me, came the words, calm, sweet, tender: 'I, if I, be lifted up, will draw all men unto me.' And I knew, I was absolutely sure, however great were the sense sufferings, Carol had held steadfastly to Truth: the Christ was lifted up; and, though he may not know it, some human heart has been drawn nearer the eternal Truth, Christ.

"Then I commenced to work for you, and when the roseate hues of early morning began to steal into the room, the knowledge came to me that there was nothing more to fight--error was overcome. All is well, even the delay which at first seemed altogether wrong. Now I will tell you the reason of it. On Sat.u.r.day afternoon I was driving your pony in the small basket carriage, which you so often used. (Since they cannot have their little master, both Bob and the pony think the next best thing is to take me about.) I am becoming well acquainted with all the beautiful lanes in the neighborhood, for I frequently take these little excursions.

"We were three or four miles from home, when, in a very narrow lane, where it was impossible to pa.s.s another vehicle, we met a farmer, driving a dog-cart. The farmer showed his reluctance to be the one to back out of the lane. He accosted me with these words: 'Ma'am, I am in great haste; it is a matter of life and death.'