But the child had closed her eyes, too weak even to listen.  So her mother kissed her little thin forehead and tiptoed out, sending in a child from across the hall to take care of Lucy while she was at work, for sick as the little one was she could not stay at home and nurse her.

Hope grasps at a straw, and it was quite in keeping with the condition of Martha’s mind that she should open her ears and her heart when they told her of the wonderful works of the faith-cure man.  People had gone to him on crutches, and he had touched or rubbed them and they had come away whole.  He had gone to the homes of the bed-ridden, and they had risen up to bless him.  It was so easy for her to believe it all.  The only religion she had ever known, the wild, emotional religion of most of her race, put her credulity to stronger tests than that.  Her only question was, would such a man come to her humble room.  But she put away even this thought.  He must come.  She would make him.  Already she saw Lucy strong, and running about like a mouse, the joy of her heart and the light of her eyes.

As soon as she could get time she went humbly to see the faith doctor, and laid her case before him, hoping, fearing, trembling.

Yes, he would come.  Her heart leaped for joy.

“There is no place,” said the faith curist, “too humble for the messenger of heaven to enter.  I am following One who went among the humblest and the lowliest, and was not ashamed to be found among publicans and sinners.  I will come to your child, madam, and put her again under the law.  The law of life is health, and no one who will accept the law need be sick.  I am not a physician.  I do not claim to be.  I only claim to teach people how not to be sick.  My fee is five dollars, merely to defray my expenses, that’s all.  You know the servant is worthy of his hire.  And in this little bottle here I have an elixir which has never been known to fail in any of the things claimed for it.  Since the world has got used to taking medicine we must make some concessions to its prejudices.  But this in reality is not a medicine at all.  It is only a symbol.  It is really liquefied prayer and faith.”

Martha did not understand anything of what he was saying.  She did not try to; she did not want to.  She only felt a blind trust in him that filled her heart with unspeakable gladness.

Tremulous with excitement, she doled out her poor dollars to him, seized the precious elixir and hurried away home to Lucy, to whom she was carrying life and strength.  The little one made a weak attempt to smile at her mother, but the light flickered away and died into greyness on her face.

“Now mammy’s little gal gwine to git well fu’ sho’.  Mammy done bring huh somep’n’ good.”  Awed and reverent, she tasted the wonderful elixir before giving it to the child.  It tasted very like sweetened water to her, but she knew that it was not, and had no doubt of its virtues.