134
had on when he was brought to hospital and was astonished to hear that he was
alive and recovering. She brought the happy tidings to her old mother, who
hurried joyfully to see her boy. The gratitude of the poor woman knew no bounds ;
she kissed the Sisters' feet and shed abundant tears over them and offered them some
poor presents.
Another case was that of a little girl literally snatched from death, who was actually
being carried to the dead-house when the Sister in charge told the men that she was not
dead, and, in spite of their incredulity, brought her back to the hospital, and by means of
stimulants revived her. She afterwards made a rapid recovery.
Another case at Bandora is no doubt typical of many others in which, the
parents dying first, the children perished for want of attention. Mr. Gilbert on his
daily rounds  "found three little Native Christian children huddled together under a
cactus bush. Two were attacked by the fell disease-a girl 9 years old and her little
brother aged 4. These were nursed, or supposed to be nursed, by another little
brother aged about 8 years, the only remaining one of the family, the parents
having fallen victims to the plague. The little boy died before Mr. Gilbert had time
to take him to the Sisters, but the little girl was conveyed to them. The small
brother would not leave his sister, saying that he was in charge of her. Through the
care of the Sisters she recovered, and, being destitute and homeless, she has been
admitted into the Bandora Orphanage, while her plucky little brother was also
admitted into the Stanislaus Orphanage."
At the Mahim hospital an old woman was admitted after all hopes of her
recovery had been abandoned by her family. On her recovery, which took place
after two months of careful nursing, she showed to the Sisters, on the day when
she was discharged, the garment which her husband and children had sent with
her, expecting to attend her funeral in a few days.
Perhaps the most remarkable case, recalling, as it does, an account of a similar
one in DeFoe, was that of a Brahmin who had previously made several attempts
to escape from the hospital. One night at about 11-30, when the Sister on duty
went to his bedside and offered him the medicine which the doctor had prescribed,
he upset the little glass containing the draught, caught her hands very tightly,
and with a violent leap out of bed, made for the door which was close by. Arrived
at the entrance of the ward, he ran with great speed towards the sea. It was a
clear moonlight night, and the tide was very high. A few yards more, and the
man would have taken another leap which would have perhaps proved fatal.
Fortunately for him a thorny shrub was in his way, which he did not perceive ; he
got entangled in it and fell, much to the relief of the Sister and the ward-boys who
came to the rescue. He was conducted to bed, his delirium being greater
than ever. He lay for several days in this state quite unconscious and very violent.
At last a change for the better came : the fever decreased, the buboes burst and were
gradually healing. His mind was calm and his strength was returning. He looked
occasionally at the Sister by his side and asked her what she had done to cure him.
His relations and other patients, who were witnesses of the scene some days previous,
then told him how he had acted. He found strength to rise from his bed, threw
himself at the Sister's feet, joined his hands like a penitent and wept aloud. He
called her his mother and said he would never forget such great kindness as long as
he lived.
When it was time for him to be discharged, he refused to go, saying he would
gladly spend his life in the service of the Sisters within the Convent walls.