Now, as I gazed upwards, I noticed to my expressionless horror a small round patch of red appear on the white ceiling. I knew it was blood. The spot was as large as a five-shilling piece. It grew until it had become the size of a plate.
It burnt into my vision as if it had been a red-hot disk. It became a deeper crimson until at last one awful drop fell upon the white coverlet of my bed. It came down with the weight of lead. The impact went through me like an electric shock. I could hardly breathe. I was bathed with perspiration and was as wet and as cold as if I had been dragged out of a winter’s river.
Another drop fell with a thud like a stone. I would have hidden my head under the bedclothes but I dared not stir. As each drop fell on the bed the interval came quicker until there was a scarlet patch on the white quilt that grew and grew and grew. I felt that the evil stain would come through the coverings, hot and wet, to my clenched hands which were just beneath, but I was unable to move them. My sight was now almost gone. There was nothing but a red haze filling the room, a beating sound in my ears and the drop recurring like the ticking of some awful clock.
I must have become unconscious for I cannot remember the nurse entering the room. When I realized once more where I was I found that the bedclothes had been changed. There was still the round red mark on the ceiling but it was now dry.
As soon as I could speak I asked, “Is she dead?” The nurse answered “No.” “Will she live?” “Yes, I hope she will, but it has been a fearful business. The operation lasted two and a quarter hours, and when the great blood vessel gave way they thought it was all over.” “Was she frightened?” I asked. “No; she walked into the room, erect and smiling, and said in a jesting voice, ‘I hope I have not kept you waiting, gentlemen, as I know you cannot begin without me.’”
In a week I returned home cured. My “nerves” were gone. It was absurd to say that I could not walk in the street when that brave woman had walked, smiling, into that place of gags and steel. When I thought of the trouble I had made about going to the play I recalled what had passed in that upper room. I began to think less of my “case” when I thought of hers.
The doctor was extremely pleased with my recovery; while his belief in the efficacy of the rest cure became unbounded. I did not trouble to tell him that I owed my recovery not to his tiresome physic and ridiculous massage but to that red patch on the ceiling.
The lady of the upper room got well. Through the instrumentality of the nurse I was able to catch sight of her when she was taking her first walk abroad after the operation. I expected to see a goddess. I saw only a plain little woman with gentle eyes and a very white face. I knew that those eyes had peered into eternity.
Some years have now passed by, but still whenever I falter the recollection of that face makes me strong.