best they could experiment. The thread of life was in the hands of God. Why not trust it to Him and in His name go on with what I thought was the right treatment?
My mind was torn between these conflicting thoughts. It was night. I was in Manilal’s bed lying by his side. I decided to give him a wet sheet pack. I got up, wetted a sheet, wrung the water out of it and wrapped it about Manilal, keeping only his head out, and then covered him with two blankets. To the head I applied a wet towel. The whole body was burning like hot iron, and quite parched. There was absolutely no perspiration.
I was sorely tired. I left Manilal in the charge of his mother, and went out for a walk on Chaupati to refresh myself. It was about ten o’clock. Very few pedestrians were out. Plunged in deep thought, I scarcely looked at them. “My honour is in Thy keeping, oh Lord, in this hour of trial,” I repeated to myself. Ramanama was on my lips. After a short time I returned, my heart beating within my breast.
No sooner had I entered the room than Manilal said, “You have returned, Bapu?”
“Yes, darling.”
“Do please pull me out. I am burning.”
“Are you perspiring, my boy?”
“I am simply soaked. Do please take me out.”
I felt his forehead. It was covered with beads of perspiration. The temperature was going down. I thanked God.
“Manilal, your fever is sure to go now. A little more perspiration and then I will take you out.”