“I am going there--walk along with me,” said the man whom I questioned.
Just then we passed under a street lamp. I observed that he wore a large
coat and muffler and that he was walking under an umbrella. Another man,
also under an umbrella, fell in with us at the next corner. As we walked
along in silence I heard some person coming at a run down the street
quite a distance behind us. I was listening to this sound when I
received a terrific blow on the back of the head. I fell forward, one
side of my face striking heavily upon the pavement. Strangely enough, I
seemed unable to make any outcry, but I had not lost consciousness, for,
as I lay with my face resting on the wet stones, I could feel the rain
drops falling on it. I could hear those quick footsteps coming nearer.
Yes, I could hear Rayel's voice shouting in a loud and angry tone, but,
try as I would, I could not utter a sound. As I listened, the two men
clutched me with strong hands and dragged me through an open door,
which quickly closed behind them. It was no sooner shut than Rayel threw
himself against it with terrific force. I could hear the door groan and
shake under the strain. Once--twice, I was struck with cruel force upon
the head--then a loud roaring in my ears drowned everything.
I can remember well the first return of consciousness. It was like the
slow breaking of dawn in the sky. I could hear voices singing:
Hark! hark! my soul! angelic voices swelling O'er earth's green fields
and ocean's wave-beat shore.
I could just distinguish those words. Where was I? Strange thoughts
began trooping through my mind. Then a great wave of emotion swept over
me. I could hear a low moaning sound that came from my own throat.
I could feel the hot tears rolling down my cheeks. A gentle hand was
brushing them away and some one was speaking to me. I was lying on a
soft bed. A sweet-faced woman was bending over me, whom I had never seen
before.
“Where am I?”
“In the hospital,” she answered.
“The singing--who is singing?” I asked.
“It is the chapel choir,” she answered; “the services are nearly over
now. It is Sunday.”
“Is Rayel here?”
“Your friend? yes, he has been with you every day.”
“How long?”
“Almost a month.”
I tried to ask other questions, but a drowsy feeling overcame me and I
fell asleep.
When I awoke again Rayel was sitting beside me. As I opened my eyes he
leaned over and kissed my hands.
“They thought you were dead once,” he said; “but I knew you were not
dead--I knew you were not dead.” I lay for a moment trying to collect
my thoughts. My head was in tight bandages and something was binding my
chest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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