The travelers of the Broad Highway pushed onward by millions, seemingly unconscious of their end. Miss Church-Member had become so well accustomed to the ways of the world that she could now adapt herself with more ease to all the exigencies of the journey.

In the midst of her favorable circ.u.mstances she was nursing the germs of an insidious disease which rendered her heart weaker and weaker.

At times short, but sharp pains were felt; and more than once her hand flew to her breast in evidence of the inward struggle.

Her disease reached a climax after she had gone not far beyond the Valley of Conviction. She was walking along in a happy mood, when she suddenly felt a pang in her heart and mentioned the circ.u.mstance to Mr. World who was still her faithful companion.

"What can it be that has been giving you this trouble for so long a time?" he asked.

"I know not," she faintly replied as she stood still and pressed both hands to her heart.

Thoroughly alarmed, Mr. World called for help while he supported her with his arm.

"It seems strange," gasped Miss Church-Member in a brief interval of relief, "that, with all the pure air along this way and the variety of things to engage my attention, I should be seized, at shortening intervals, with these cruel and unbearable heart-pangs. Oh, that I might be free from this intruder's grasp! What shall I do? Where shall I go? I feel again the edge of the invisible blade!"

At this she threw her arms upward and, shrieking in agony, was about to fall as she was caught by Mr. World.

"Let us hurry her off to the nearest hospital," promptly suggested one of the bystanders who had responded to the call for help. An ambulance carried the fainting Miss Church-Member to one of Satan's hospitals near by.

[Ill.u.s.tration: An ambulance carried the fainting Miss Church-Member to one of Satan's hospitals near by.]

The chief physician ordered the apparently lifeless form to be taken at once to an examination room, granting Mr. World the privilege of remaining by the side of his suffering friend. A quick investigation disclosed the fact that Miss Church-Member had been overcome by a partial paralysis of the heart, induced by intense mental anxiety dating from the time when she had pa.s.sed through the Valley of Conviction.

"Not a serious case," said the suave doctor in reply to a question from the anxious Mr. World. "An operation will take away, almost entirely, the cause of this trouble."

"Will you not explain to me the trouble, and the nature of the operation?" nervously asked Mr. World.

"Certain nerves which ramify through the human heart have been affected emotionally by the nonsensical teachings of the King's Highway. These teachings are commonly known us 'Narrow-Gauge Ideas.' If these nerves are rendered insensible, there is scarcely any trouble of that kind again. We can, by an intricate operation, paralyze the mother-nerve leading to the heart, and thereafter you may expect to find the heart of this woman almost dead to the foolish influences that needlessly send conviction and remorse into so many lives."

While the physician was rapidly speaking these words, the surgeon had arrived, and they forthwith proceeded to the operating room.

Mr. World watched the attendants as they carried Miss Church-Member away. He saw her no more that day, but heard that the operation was successful, and that the patient was resting quietly.

One of the managers of the inst.i.tution, knowing that Mr. World was companionless, offered to escort him through the various departments of the Hospital. To this he gave his hearty consent.

They first went to the tower which proved to be a magnificent point of view. Here he could see far and wide, for the building itself was situated on elevated ground, and the tower rose far into the air.

On one side of the Hospital stretched away the Broad Highway more pleasing at this point of the route than at many others, and far away it seemed to lead into pleasant woodland realms.

On the other side of the building pa.s.sed the King's Highway, which, at this point, was exceedingly rough and uninviting to the view.

Thus I saw how the shrewdness of h.e.l.l was exercised in locating hospitals at such places.

"Ignorance is the mother of all that folly," said Mr. World with a feeling of self-satisfaction, "I see a long line of separate buildings just below us--there along the King's Highway. What purpose do they serve?"

"Those are medical offices under the supervision of this hospital- staff. Any one traveling on the Narrow Path, and falling sick there, may enter for help and restoration. If the case be difficult, or requiring an operation, or even special nursing, the patient is brought to the hospital."

"Are you successful in most of your operations, especially with those patients who come from such a rugged path?"

"Fortunately we succeed in effecting a cure in almost every case. We can only deal with those who voluntarily come to our medical staff.

Many, in sad need of our help, pa.s.s by all our special offices without ever seeking advice."

"Are your patients foolish enough, after having been treated, to go back to that jolting road, and thus again invite their ills?"

"Most of our patients go hence on the more delightful way which you see, and on which you have come hither."

"What diseases most commonly affect those who come to your physicians and hospitals for help?"

"Let me answer your question by taking you down to those offices. You may there observe for yourself."

I saw Mr. World and his escort enter a physician's office which stood as near the King's Highway as Satan could build it.

The doctor was examining a church deacon who, by reason of his disease, found it hard to travel on a way so narrow and rugged. He was given a vial of medicine with specific directions.

After the patient had left, the doctor smiled derisively and pocketed his fee with ghoulish delight.

"What ailed that man asked?" Mr. World. "Can you tell me the cause of his malady?" "He has been eating and eating sermons, exhortations, and pious literature, and has done scarcely any work for his so-called Master. Eating much and working little generally results in gout or rheumatic diseases. There are large numbers in the church coming here for treatment who are similarly affected. I suppose such Christians enjoy eating better than they enjoy working."

"Do you prepare them for better service on the King's Highway?"

"Never! My business is to give them such medicine as will make all kinds of spiritual food repulsive to them. Then, rather than starve, they go to the fat lands on the Broad Highway for which my medicine prepares them. There they eat of the fruit forbidden by their former Master, for it is sweet-tasting withal. Some go on in the forbidden kingdoms until death, and hold an honorable place in their first church.

Others are dealt with more summarily on account of the radical views entertained by certain bigots who wage warfare against a man who finds delight in gardens other than his own."

The electric bell summoned the doctor to the door. He opened it, and there stood a pilgrim from the King's Highway.

She entered and, fully exhausted, sank into a chair.

"What is the difficulty?" asked the physician in a cool manner.

"Something terrible indeed, or else my comrades accuse me unjustly."

"With what do they charge you, Miss Goodly-Minded?" he questioned, as he felt her pulse.

"I am accused of being out of order just because I do not run all the time to prayer-meeting and to other services of the church. They say I am not fit to travel this way, and therefore I have found it very difficult to get over some of the obstacles. Weariness and fatigue have almost dragged me to the earth. My persecution will prove to be my death unless you can give me some medicine to relieve me."

"Let me see your tongue," the physician requested. This done, he continued: "Ah! I can easily see, by your coated tongue, that you have already eaten more good things than you could digest. If there is any error, it is because you have already gone to church too much. I have medicine to cure you."

At that he walked into another room and opened a secret door. I saw him pour a liquid from a large bottle labeled, "Satan's Malaria Cure."

It contained a mixture of unbelief, ridicule, and self-righteousness.

He filled a small vial with sugar pellets and saturated them with the mixture from the large bottle.

"Take four globules every hour," he directed, as he gave her the medicine, "and I would further advise that you travel for your health."

"What climate would be most helpful to me?" she asked, for she was a lady of considerable means and could go where she wished.

"A colder climate where you will be free from the noonday sun, and breathe in a new atmosphere. This medicine will do the rest."

She pa.s.sed out of the door just as a feeble man was entering. He was an old pilgrim and evidently suffering much.