“Ah, sahib, dear sahib, I am now stone blind,” he said.
Here with extended arms he advanced to my table, and the assembled crowd shook their heads. I had some difficulty in getting him to remove his many bandages; but on looking at his eyes I saw that his vision, as I had supposed, was extremely good. I naturally was very angry, for, letting the ingratitude of the man alone, I did not care to be robbed of the credit of a cure in so public a manner. I did not take long to decide what to do. Among some antiquated instruments that had accumulated in the dispensary was a large amputating knife in a leather box. I got this box from the cupboard and placed it before me. Taking my seat, with the man on the other side of my table, I addressed him:—
“Of course, if I have deprived you of your sight, it is only fair that I should remunerate you and return you the money you have paid me.”
A beatific smile spread over his face.
“Ah, sahib, I know you are a great and generous sahib. I am sure you would not wrong a poor Mussulman. Oh, sahib, I want nothing but justice.”
“And what, my friend, do you consider justice?”
“Oh, sahib, doctor sahib, if you would refund the four pounds that I paid you, and give me, say forty pounds, even less, for my eyes, I should pray for you—yes, I and my family, we should all pray for you.”
Here the supporters and family chimed in, “Yes, yes, he has spoken well,” and the crowd of interested patients and their friends whispered approbation.
I noticed, too, that my servant seemed trying to attract my attention, and to dissuade me from a course he thought just, perhaps, but too generous.
“Yes,” said I, “this is what ought to be done, there is no denying it, in the case you describe. But”—and here I began to shout—“but what should be done to the man who comes here with a lie in his mouth? Know you, bystanders, that this man is a liar; he sees perfectly!”