“I don’t know,” she heard the boy answer, “this is the first time I was ever in Illusia.” And there was something about the boy’s voice that sounded very familiar to Maida. It reminded her of—who did it remind her of? The old man bent his head sadly. “If I only had my eyes,” he said. The boy patted him on the shoulder and answered cheerfully—“Oh you’ll have them soon, and then all will be well.”
Maida tried to remember where she had heard his voice. Then a dreadful thing occurred. Two big Illusian policemen—and they are much bigger and fiercer than the kind we have down here—ran into the square, seized the boy, and despite his cries and entreaties dragged him away, leaving the poor old blind man helpless and alone. As soon as they were out of sight Maida ran to the old man who was calling out piteously, and soothed him.
“What can I do to help you?” she asked him.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” he answered sorrowfully. “You see I am blind, little girl, I am blind. Because my mirror showed the Queen Aurora how ugly she was, I was forced to look upon the purple light that shone from her golden crown. So now I cannot see. I shall never see again. And they have taken away my boy. I am all alone, all alone!”
“No, not alone,” replied Maida, “I will guide you. It seems to me I have heard your voice, as well as your boy’s. Lift the bandage and let me see your face.”
The old man pushed back the bandage and you can imagine Maida’s surprise when she saw it was Santa Claus! She threw her arms about him and told him who she was. You may just believe he was glad to find her.
“And now,” she said joyously, “I’ve a great surprise for you. You shall have your eyes back. No, don’t ask me to tell you how, but you shall see again—and very soon.” So she guided his faltering steps across the square to the Wishing Post. She touched it and wished Santa Claus to have his eyes again. Then she turned and asked him, “Can you see?”
“Not yet,” he answered, so she tried it again. The second wish failed just as the first. Maida was dismayed.
“Something is the matter,” she cried. “I’ve wished and wished but it doesn’t come true. What shall we do?”
Santa Claus tottered toward her. “Aren’t you ashamed to play tricks on a poor old blind man—one who loved you so?” he asked. Of course that made poor Maida feel worse than ever.