XVIII
AND A MIRACLE
For a moment Rose-Marie was stunned by the child's unexpected cry. Shehung speechless, filled with wonderment, in Jim's arms. And then, with awrench, she was free--was running across the floor to the little huddledbundle that was Lily.
"You beast," she flung back, over her shoulder, as she ran. "You beast!You've killed her!"
Jim did not attempt to follow--or to answer. He had wheeled about, andhis face was very pale.
"God!" he said, in a tense whisper, "_God_!" It was the first time thatthe word, upon his lips, was neither mocking nor profane.
Rose-Marie, with tender hands, gathered the child up from the hard floor.She was not thinking of the miracle that had taken place--she was notthinking of the sound that had come, so unexpectedly, from dumb lips. Sheonly knew that the child was unconscious, perhaps dying. Her tremblingfingers felt of the slim wrist; felt almost with apprehension. She wassurprised to feel that the pulse was still beating, though faintly.
"Get somebody," she said, tersely, to Jim. "Get somebody whoknows--something!"
Jim's face was still the colour of ashes. He did not stir--did not seemto have the power to stir.
"Did yer hear her?" he mouthed thickly. "She _yelled_. I heard her. Didyer hear--"
Rose-Marie was holding Lily close to her breast. Her stern young eyeslooked across the drooping golden head into the scared face of the man.
"It was God, speaking through her," she said. "It was God. And you--youhad denied Him--_you beast_!"
All at once Jim was down upon the floor beside her. The mask of passionhad slipped from his face--his shoulders seemed suddenly more narrow--hiscruel hands almost futile. Rose-Marie wondered, subconsciously, how shehad ever feared him.
"She yelled," he reiterated, "_did yer hear her--_"
Rose-Marie clutched the child tighter in her arms.
"Get some one, at once," she ordered, "if you don't want her to die--ifyou don't want to be a murderer!"
But Jim had not heard her voice. He was sobbing, gustily.
"I'm t'rough," he was sobbing, "t'rough! Oh--God, fergive--"
It was then that the door opened. And Rose-Marie, raising eyes abrim withrelief, saw that Ella and Mrs. Volsky and Bennie stood upon thethreshold.
"What's a-matter?" questioned Mrs. Volsky--her voice sodden with grief."What's been a-happenin'?" But Ella ran across the space between them,and knelt in front of Rose-Marie.
"Give 'er t' me!" she breathed fiercely; "she's my sister. Give'er t' me!"
Silently Rose-Marie handed over the light little figure. But as Ellapillowed the dishevelled head upon her shoulder, she spoke directlyto Bennie.
"Run to the Settlement House, as fast as ever you can!" she told him."And bring Dr. Blanchard back with you. Hurry, dear--it may mean Lily'slife!" And Bennie, with his grimy face tear-streaked, was out of the doorand clattering down the stairs before she had finished.
Ella, her mouth agonized and drawn, was the first to speak after Bennieleft the room. When she did speak she asked a question.
"Who done this t' her?" she questioned. "_Who done it_?"
Rose-Marie hesitated. She could feel the eyes of Mrs. Volsky, dumb withsuffering, upon her--she could feel Jim's rat-like gaze fixed, with acertain appeal, on her face. At last she spoke.
"Jim will tell you!" she said.
If she had expected the man to evade the issue--if she had expected adownright falsehood from him--she was surprised. For Jim's head came up,suddenly, and his eyes met the burning dark ones of his sister.
"I done it," he said, simply, and he scrambled up from the floor, as hespoke. "I kicked her. She come in when I was tryin' t' kiss"--his fingerindicated Rose-Marie, "_her_. Lily got in th' way. So I kicked outhard--then--she," he gulped back a shudder, "she _yelled_!"
Ella was suddenly galvanized into action. She was on her feet, with onelithe, pantherlike movement--the child held tight in her arms.
"Yer kicked her," she said softly--and the gentleness of her voice wasominous. "Yer kicked her! An' she yelled--" For the first time the fullsignificance of it struck her. "_She yelled_?" she questioned, whirlingto Rose-Marie; "yer don't mean as she made a _sound_?"
Rose-Marie nodded dumbly. It was Jim's voice that went on with the story.
"She ain't dead," he told Ella, piteously. "She ain't dead. An'--Ipromise yer true--I'll never do such a thing again. I promise yer true!"
Ella took a step toward him. Her face was suddenly lined, and old. "Ifshe dies," she told him, "_if she dies_..." she hesitated, andthen--"Much yer promises mean," she shrilled, "much yer promises--"
Rose-Marie had been watching Jim's face. Almost without meaning to sheinterrupted Ella's flow of speech.
"I think that he means what he says," she told Ella slowly. "I think thathe means ... what he says."
For she had seen the birth of something--_that might have been soul_--inJim's haggard eyes.
The child in Ella's arms stirred, weakly, and was still again. But themovement, slight as it was, made the girl forget her brother. Her darkhead bent above the fair one.
"Honey," she whispered, "yer goin' ter get well fer Ella--ain't yer? Yergoin' ter get well--"
The door swung open with a startling suddenness, and Rose-Marie sprangforward, her hands outstretched. Framed in the battered wood stoodBennie--the tears streaking his face--and behind him was the YoungDoctor. So tall he seemed, so capable, so strong, standing there, thatRose-Marie felt as if her troubles had been lifted, magically, from hershoulders. All at once she ceased to be afraid--ceased to question theways of the Almighty. All at once she felt that Lily would getbetter--that the Volskys would be saved to a better life. And all atonce she knew something else. And the consciousness of it looked fromher wide eyes.
"You!" she breathed. "_You_!"
And, though she had sent for him, herself, she felt a glad sort ofsurprise surging through her heart.
The Young Doctor's glance, in her direction, was eloquent. But as hiseyes saw the child in Ella's arms his expression became impersonal,again, concentrated, and alert. With one stride he reached Ella's side,and took the tiny figure from her arms.
"What's the matter here?" he questioned sharply.
Rose-Marie was not conscious of the words that she used as she describedLily's accident. She glossed over Jim's part in it as lightly aspossible; she told, as quickly as she could, the history of the child.And as she told it, the doctor's lean capable hands were passing, withpracticed skill, over the little relaxed body. When she told of thechild's deaf and dumb condition she was conscious of his absoluteattention--though he did not for a moment stop his work--when she spokeof the scream she saw his start of surprise. But his only words were inthe nature of commands. "Bring water"--he ordered, "clean water, in abasin. A _clean_ basin. Bring a sponge"--he corrected himself--"a cleanrag will do--only it must be _clean_"--this to Mrs. Volsky, "you_understand?_ Where," his eyes were on Ella's face, "can we lay thechild? Is there a _clean_ bed, anywhere?"
Ella was shaking with nervousness as she opened the door of the innerroom that she and Lily shared. Mrs. Volsky, carrying the basin of water,was sobbing. Jim, standing in the center of the room, was like astatue--only his haunted eyes were alive. The Young Doctor, glancing fromface to face, spoke suddenly to Rose-Marie.
"I hate to ask you," he said simply, "but you seem to be the only one whohasn't gone to pieces. Will you come in here with me?"
Rose-Marie nodded, and she spoke, very softly. "Then you think that I'llbe able--to help?" she questioned.
The Young Doctor was remembering--or forgetting--many things.
"I know that you will!" he said, and he spoke as softly as she had done."I know that you will!"
They went, together, with Lily, into the inner room. And as the YoungDoctor closed the door, Rose-Marie knew a very real throb of triumph. Forhe had admitted that her help was to be desired--that she could really dosomething!
But, the moment that the door
closed, she forgot her feeling of victory,for, of a sudden, she saw Dr. Blanchard in a new light. She saw him laythe little figure upon the bed--she saw him pull off his coat. And then,while she held the basin of water, she saw him get to work. And as shewatched him her last feeling of doubt was swept away.
"He may say that he's not interested in people," she told herselfjoyously, "but he is. He may think that he doesn't care for religion--buthe does. There's love of people in every move of his hands! There'ssomething religious in the very way his fingers touch Lily!"
Yes, she was seeing the Young Doctor in a new light. As she watched himshe knew that he had quite forgotten her presence--had quite forgottenthe little quarrels that had all but ruined their chance at friendship.She knew that his mind was only on the child who lay so still under hishands--she knew that all the intensity of his nature was concentratedupon Lily. As she watched him, deftly obeying His simple directions, shegloried in his skill--in his surety.
And then, at last, Lily opened her eyes. She might have been waking froma deep slumber as she opened them--she might have been dreaming apleasant dream as she smiled faintly. Rose-Marie had a sudden feeling--afeeling that she had experienced before--that the child was seeingvisions, with her great sightless eyes, that other, normal folk could notsee. All at once a great dread clutched at her soul.
"She's not dying--?" she whispered, gaspingly. "Her smile is sovery--wonderful. She's not dying?"
The Young Doctor turned swiftly from the bed. All at once he looked likea knight to Rose-Marie--an armourless, modern knight who fought anendless fight against the dragons of disease and pain.
"Bless your heart, no!" he answered. "She isn't dying! We'll bring heraround in a few minutes. And now"--a great tenderness shone out of hiseyes, "tell me all about it. You were very sketchy," his gestureindicated the other room, "out there! How did the child really gethurt--and how did you come to be here? How--Why, Rose-Marie...._Sweetheart_!"
For Rose-Marie had fainted very quietly--and for the first time in all ofher strong young life.
XIX
AND THE HAPPY ENDING
They were sitting together at the luncheon table--the Superintendent,Rose-Marie, and the Young Doctor. The noontime sunshine slanted acrossthe table--dancing on the silver, touching softly Rose-Marie's curls,finding an answering sparkle in the Young Doctor's smile. Andsilence--the warm silence of happiness--lay over them all.
It was the Young Doctor who spoke first.
"Just about a month ago, it was," he said reflectively, "that I saw Lilyfor the first time. And now"--he paused teasingly--"and now--"
Rose-Marie laid down the bit of roll that she was buttering. Her face wasglowing with eagerness.
"They've come to some decision," she whispered, in a question that waslittle more than a breath of sound, "the doctors at the hospital havecome to some decision?"
The Superintendent was leaning forward and her kind soul shone out of hertired eyes. "Tell us at once, Billy Blanchard!" she ordered, "_At once_!"
Quite after the maddening fashion of men the Young Doctor did notanswer--not until he had consumed, and appreciatively, the bit of rollthat he had been buttering. And then--"The other doctors agree with mydiagnosis," he told them simply. "It's an extraordinary case, they say;but a not incurable one. The shock--when Jim kicked her--was a blessingin disguise. Not, of course, that I'd prescribe kicks for crippledchildren! But"--the term that he used was long and technical--"but suchthings have happened. Not often, of course. The doctors agree with methat, if her voice comes back--as I believe it will--there may be a veryreal hope for her hearing. And her eyes "--his voice was suddenlytender--"well--thousands of slum kiddies are blind--and thousands of themhave been cured. If Lily is, some day, a normal child--if she can someday speak and see, and hear, it will be--"
The Superintendent's voice was soft--
"It is already a miracle!" she said simply. "It is already a miracle.Look at Jim--working for a small salary, _and liking it_! Look atBennie--he was the head of his class in school, this month, he told me.And Ella--"
The Young Doctor interrupted.
"Ella and her mother went to church with us last Sunday," he said."Rose-Marie and I were starting out, together, and they asked if theymight go along. I tell you"--his eyes were looking deep, _deep_, into theeyes of Rose-Marie and he spoke directly to her, "I tell you, dear--I'velearned a great many lessons in the last few weeks. Jim isn't the onlyone--or Bennie. Lily isn't the only nearly incurable case that has foundnew strength...."
Rose-Marie was blushing. The Superintendent, watching the waves of coloursweep over her face, spoke suddenly--reminiscently.
"Child," she said--and laughter, tremulous laughter, was in her voice,"your face is ever so _pink_! I believe," she was quoting, "'that youhave a best beau'!"
The Young Doctor was laughing, too. Strangely enough his laughter hadjust the suggestion of a tremor in it.
"I'll say that she has!" he replied, and his words, though slangy, werevery tender. "I'll say that she has!" And then--"Are _we_ going back tothe little town, Rose-Marie," he questioned. "Are _we_ going back to thelittle town to be married?"
The blush had died from Rose-Marie's face, leaving it just faintlyflushed. The eyes that she raised to the Young Doctor's eyes were likewarm stars.
"No," she told him, "we're not! I've thought it all out. We're going tobe married here--here in the Settlement House. I'll write for my aunts tocome on--and for my old pastor! I couldn't be married without myaunts.... And my pastor; he christened me, and he welcomed me into thechurch, and"--all at once she started up from the table, "I'm goingup-stairs to write, now," she managed. "I want to tell them that we'regoing to start our home here"--her voice broke, "here, on our ownIsland...." Like a flash she was out of the door.
The Young Doctor was on his feet. Luncheon was quite forgotten.
"I think," he said softly, and his face was like a light, "I think thatI'll go with her--and help her with the letter!" The door closed,sharply, upon his hurrying back.
* * * * *
The Superintendent, left alone at the table, rang for the maid. Her voicewas carefully calm as she ordered the evening meal. But her eyes werejust a bit misty as she looked into the maid's dull face.
"Mrs. Volsky," she said suddenly, "love must have its way! And love is--"
The maid looked at her blankly. Obviously she did not understand. But,seeing her neat apron, her clean hands, her carefully combed hair, onecould forgive her vague expression.
"What say?" she questioned.
The Superintendent laughed wearily, "Anyway," she remarked, "Ella likesher work, doesn't she? And Jim? And Bennie is going to be a great man,some day--isn't he? And Lily may be made well--quite well! You should bea glad woman, Mrs. Volsky!"
Pride flamed up, suddenly, in the maid's face--blotting out the dullness.
"God," she said simply and--marvel of marvels--her usually tonelessvoice was athrob with love--"God is good!" She went out, with a trayfull of dishes.
Her chin in the palm of her hand, the Superintendent stared off intospace. If she was thinking of a little blond child--lying in a hospitalbed--if she was thinking of a man with sleek hair, trying to make a newstart--if she was thinking of a girl with dark, flashing eyes, and asmall, grubby-fingered boy, her expression did not mirror her thought.Only once she spoke, as she was folding her napkin. And then--
"They're both very young," she murmured, a shade wistfully. Perhaps shewas remembering the springtime of her own youth.
The Island of Faith Page 17
