Thus for two weeks the child languishes in his mother’s arms; and resting from the convulsions and the coma, he would fix on Khalid the hollow, icy glance of death. No; the light and intelligence might never revisit those vacant eyes.
Now Shakib comes to suggest a consultation. The great English physician of Cairo, why not call him ? It might not be meningitis, after all, and the child might be helped, might be cured.
The great guesswork Celebrity is called. He examines the patient and confirms the opinion of his confrères, rather his disciples.
“But the whole tissue,” he continues with glib assurance, “is not affected. The area is local, and to the side of the ear that is sore. The strabismus being to the right, the affection must be to the left. And the pus accumulating behind the ear, under the bone, and pressing on the covering of the brain, produces the inflammation. Yes, pus is the cause of this.”
And he repeats the Arabic proverb in broken Arabic, “A drop of pus will disable a camel.”
Further, “Yes, the child’s life can be saved by trepanning. It should have been done already, but the time’s not passed. Let the surgeon come and make a little opening—no; a child can stand chloroform better than an adult. And when the pus is out he will be well.”
In a private consultation the disciples beg to observe that there was no evidence of pus behind the ear. “It is beneath the skullbone,” the Master asserts. And so we decide upon the operation. The Eye and Ear specialist is called, and after weighing the probabilities of the case and considering that the great Celebrity had said there was pus, although there be no evidence of it, he convinces Khalid that if the child is not benefited by the operation he cannot suffer from it more than he is suffering now.