“It is well,” said Zeynab, with a frightened little smile. “Thou wilt not cut my foot off bit by bit?”
“Certainly not. If I should have to cut it off, I will give you something to prevent your feeling it at all, so that you won’t even know that it is being done; but I hope it will not be necessary. Now let me see it.”
With great bravery the child allowed her foot to be disencumbered of the mass of dirty rags in which it was enveloped, and lay still with compressed lips while Georgia made her examination. The theory which the doctor had formed on hearing Khadija’s report she saw at once to be the correct one. The splintered bone was accountable for the swelling, and would have induced mortification if it had remained much longer in the wound. The foot was in a frightful state, but there was still just a possibility of operating with success. The operation must be undertaken at once, Georgia decided, if the limb was to be saved, and she turned to Rahah to tell her to get out the necessary anæsthetic. The movement, slight as it was, gave a jerk to the rickety bedstead, which communicated itself to the wounded foot, and forced a moan of pain from the child’s lips. Almost simultaneously with the sound, Khadija precipitated herself into the room with a suddenness which suggested that she must have been listening at the door, and seizing Georgia by the shoulders, thrust her violently away from the bed and to the other side of the little room.
“What art thou doing to my child?” she demanded, standing between the doctor and Zeynab, who was sobbing and wailing with the pain of the rough jar which the impetuous onslaught had caused to her foot. “Answer me, O doctor lady! I sent for thee to cure her, and wouldst thou torment her when I am not by?”
“It is thou who art hurting me, O my nurse,” moaned Zeynab. “The doctor lady did but shake me a little, but thou hast killed me. Go away, and let the doctor lady do what she likes.”
“What! has the doctor lady bewitched thy heart away from me already?” cried the old woman, turning upon her. “Ah, wicked girl, what hast thou there?” and she pounced upon the vile daub which was as good as a whole art gallery to Zeynab, and tore it to pieces. “Have I not forbidden thee to see or hear anything of the evil doings of the wicked white people?”
“I hate thee!” screamed Zeynab, flinging herself upon her nurse, and attacking her with all her might. “The white people are good, and thou hast torn my picture. I love the doctor lady, but thou art a pig!”
“Hush, Zeynab, you will make your foot worse,” said Georgia, interposing between Khadija and her charge. “I am going to give you something that will keep you from feeling pain, and then I hope I shall be able to do you some good.”
“Nay,” cried Khadija; “wouldst thou steal away the child’s soul under pretence of saving her pain? I know thee, O doctor lady, and thou shalt never shut up my Zeynab’s soul in a bottle with snakes and devils and unclean animals. I have heard of thy doings, and of the demons thou hast to serve thee, and how thou dost steal souls that thou mayest make them work evil at thy will. Thou shalt not charm my Zeynab’s soul away to imprison it with them.”
But it only needed this to determine Zeynab immediately in favour of the anæsthetic.