As the Sparks Fly Upward (12 page)

“You don't believe in the Lord.”

“You wound me to the heart.” Teague laughed shortly. “What makes you think I don't believe in God?”

“Because you make fun of him.”

“No, I make fun of those who use God as an excuse to do as they please.”

Colin pondered that for a moment and said, “I'm not sure I believe in God.”

“Why, you go to church every time the doors are opened.”

“Going to church does not make you a Christian any more than going to a stable makes you a horse.”

“What a thing to say!” Teague said, but he smiled. “Jesus was a humble man, was He not?”

“He was.”

“And I am sure you have read in the Scripture that ‘God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble'?”

“That is in First Peter.”

“I thought you might know it. That is your job, boy: stay humble and learn your art and your science. One day things may change, but for now the College of Physicians takes the place of God to us.”

“Not for me!” Colin asserted. “I will never say a thing like that.”

The two had argued before about religion. Teague maintained he had none, but Colin had seen the lives of his parents and knew that their religion was real. It grieved him that he had not found it. Now he said stubbornly, “I
will
become a physician, and I
will
tell the truth!”

“Well, may the Lord help you, because the College of Physicians won't! Come now. Let's see the rest of these patients.”

“Colin, a messenger brought this. It's from your parents.”

Colin took the folded paper from Teague and opened it. He scanned it, and when he looked up, Teague saw fear in the young man's eyes. “What is it?”

“It's my sister, Adara. She's very ill.”

“What are the symptoms?”

“She's got stomach pains and a high fever.”

“That could be any one of many different maladies. I know you must go to her, Colin. I'll take care of our practice. How old is your sister?”

“Just seventeen.”

Teague put his arm around Colin's shoulder, the first time he had ever done so. “Go at once, my boy!” He hesitated, then said, “It's at times like these I wish I were a man of God.”

“So do I, Doctor,” Colin whispered. “I want to pray, but I can't.”

“Your parents are godly people. They'll pray for her.”

Colin stared at Teague and said bitterly, “That's not the same thing, is it?” He turned and left the room, and Teague watched him go, sadness in his eyes. “Poor boy! I wish I could pray, but why would God listen to a sinner like me?”

“Can't you do
anything
, Son?”

Colin looked down into the face of his sister, which was pale and twisted with pain. She had lost so much weight that her body was shrunken, and her face was skull-like. He had been beside her for twenty-four hours, ever since he had arrived at Stoneybrook. He had not slept, and he had tried every treatment he'd ever heard of, but all to no avail.

“I've done all I can, Mother.” He choked as he spoke, and leaned down and embraced Adara. She was in a deep coma. He held her, and the tears ran down his cheeks. Finally he laid Adara's thin body down and straightened up. “I'm sorry, Father,” he whispered.

Brandon could not speak, and the agony in his eyes revealed the torment of his soul. Adara, their only girl child, had been his pet, and now he was losing her. He cast a helpless glance at Colin, and his lips twisted as he tried to speak. Colin had known only strength from his father, but now the terrible weight of grief drained him of all his courage.

Dr. Morgan was in attendance, sorrow on his features. He was a thin man with silver hair. He had been be the Winslows' physician for many years, but now he, too, was pale. “I brought her into the world,” he whispered. “Never did I think to see her like this!”

Colin wanted to turn and flee, but that was not an option. He well knew that his parents looked to him for help, and his soul seemed to knot in a hopeless fear. He tried to pray, but could
not. His parents prayed, and the pastor of their church came and added his prayers, but all that Colin could do was stand and be destroyed by the first real tragedy of his life.

The end came at dawn the next day. Adara opened her eyes, and for that moment, she had knowledge of what was happening to her. She looked up into Colin's face as he leaned over her and cried, “Brother—help me!” Colin held her hand but could only weep. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then stepped back. He was aware that his parents were saying their last farewell. He had wept until there were no more tears, but as he heard the faint voice of Adara fade away, he cried, “Oh, God! Help me! I want to save lives, but I can't do it unless you help me!” He turned then and went to stand beside his parents, and the sight of his sister's dead face was like a dagger in his heart.

8

May 15, 1581

D
r. Regis Perry, head of the Royal College of Physicians, the most powerful medical organization in England, was a thickset man with a square head set on a neck so short he did not seem to have one. His arms were bulging with muscle, and in a farmer's clothing he could easily pass for one of that group. Perry had a bulldog face with a lantern jaw, and small eyes set rather close together. They were a muddy brown, but when he grew angry they glowed as with a subterranean heat. However, his eyes at the moment were hiding that anger, for he was unable to release it in the presence of his powerful visitor.

William Farley, the Right Honorable Viscount Withington, was not a large man, at least when he stood next to Perry. He had a tall, slender frame, dark hair, penetrating gray eyes, and an imposing manner. He was a man of great discernment, and he could tell in a glance that Dr. Perry was angry. He glanced over at the third man in the room, Dr. John Chadburn, the head of Oxford University. Chadburn was a small man with mild, delicate features and was at all times anxious to avoid confrontation. He seemed caught between the upper and the nether millstone, for the two powerful men who flanked him were both dangerous, influential, and not men to antagonize.

“I think, Lord Withington, you will have to understand that disease is not at any doctor's beck and call.” Perry's voice was harsh and gravelly. He ran his thumb over his thick, choppy lips and attempted to make himself look as amiable as possible. “I understand your anxiety for your son, but you must learn to be patient, sir.”

Lord Withington put his steady gaze upon Perry and said in a voice that was somehow ominous, “Dr. Perry, I brought my son, Leslie, to you because he was ill. He has been here now for three weeks and he has grown progressively worse. I am not a doctor, sir, but I do know my son, and I fear for him. He is a sick young man.”

“I am sure Dr. Perry is doing his best,” Chadburn said quickly. “Disease is a deceitful thing. If you would just be patient—”

“I
have
been patient, Dr. Chadburn. The treatments have not been effective. I have met with your chief physicians more than once, and it is obvious that they have not the foggiest idea what is wrong with Leslie. Therefore I intend to take a step I feel is important.”

Alarm ran across Dr. Perry's blunt features. “What do you mean, my lord? We have the finest physicians in England.”

“That may well be, but my son is not getting any better. I have a nephew, the only son of my brother, and he became very ill, and all the medical attention my brother got for him was useless. He was at the point of death. At that time my brother took the boy to Dr. Phineas Teague—I believe you know the man.”

Instantly, Dr. Perry's face grew red. “I know him, my lord, but I could not recommend him.”

“And why is that, Dr. Perry?”

“He has no respect for the forerunners and founders of the medical profession.”

“That may well be. As I have said, I am not an expert, but as
soon as my nephew came under Dr. Teague's care, along with that of his young associate, Mr. Colin Winslow, he almost immediately came back to health.” A smile touched Withington's face. “It was a miracle! I thank the Lord for it. I also thank the Lord that Dr. Teague and Dr. Winslow were used as his instruments for the healing process.”

Instantly, Perry snarled, “Winslow is not a physician, my lord!”

“I am not aware of the different categories you have set up. All I know is that my nephew was restored to health, while you have not been able to make my son any better; therefore I am going to take Leslie to these two men.”

“Colin Winslow is a worse rebel than his mentor, Dr. Teague! He could kill your son!”

“I am not interested in a piece of paper that speaks of a man's qualifications,” Lord Withington said. His voice had a thread of steel running through it. “I have talked to some of my friends who have had the same symptoms as my son, and several of them have received treatment from Dr. Teague and his associate. They all say Mr. Winslow, as young as he is, is successful in his work with Dr. Teague.”

“It is very dangerous, I must warn you! Your son could suffer dreadfully if you put him in the hands of these two men! They have no respect for the great physicians of history. Why, they both had the gall to say Galen, the greatest of all physicians in history, was wrong on many counts!”

“Who is Galen? Is he practicing now?”

“Why, no, sir, he is not. He has been dead for many years. But his treatments are used by every reputable physician in the world.”

Lord Withington said disdainfully, “Yes, the physicians who treated my nephew followed this authority, and the poor boy nearly died. It was only after Dr. Teague and Mr. Winslow treated him that he lived. My mind is made up. I thank you for
your help and I will pay your fees, but I intend to see that my son is examined by Dr. Teague and his associate.”

As soon as the door closed behind Lord Withington, Regis Perry unloosed a string of oaths such as John Chadburn had never heard. Chadburn waited until Perry had run down, then said, “If I were you, Dr. Perry, I would not take on Lord Withington as an enemy. He is a powerful man, so you should tread very carefully.”

Perry's face grew as red as a furnace, for he well knew that Chadburn had great influence as head of Oxford; and he clapped his meaty lips together, for he well knew that Chadburn was right. He filed the incident in his mind and made a vow that moment that he would do whatever was needed to bring the downfall of Dr. Phineas Teague and his associate Colin Winslow, no matter what the cost!

“Not a bad old pile of bricks, is it, Colin?”

Colin had arrived with Teague at the Withington estate. They had been driving for what seemed like hours through the lands that belonged to the viscount, and now the driver halted the carriage in front of the imposing structure.

“It is more than a pile of bricks, isn't it, Dr. Teague?”

Indeed, Withington was most impressive. Colin stared at it, fascinated by the size. He studied the immense front lawn, which was decorated with fountains and hedges carved into fantastic states. Great gargoyles crowned the structure, which was composed of white towers that seemed to rise to the sky. “It's a huge place, Doctor.”

“I never look at these places without thinking that they are nothing more than monuments to man's pride. Who would want a house with fifty bedrooms? Come, boy, let's see what Lord Withington wants. I hope we can give it to him! He is a good man to have on our side.”

Colin leaped to the ground and waited as his companion descended
slowly. They stood in a huge courtyard, a place of perfect symmetry, with skillful structures scattered everywhere. It seemed the stone leaves in the stone trees came to life.

“Shut your mouth, boy, before you swallow a bug,” Phineas Teague grunted. “It's a house, just bigger than most. But when Lord Withington dies, he will leave it here, just as a peasant will leave behind his thatched roof. Come along now.”

The two moved forward and climbed the steps, and as they reached the top, a massive door swung open. A tall servant in livery stood before them, saying, “May I help you, sirs?”

“I am Dr. Teague and this is Mr. Winslow. Lord Withington has asked us to call.”

“Of course, sir. He mentioned that you would be coming. Would you step inside, please?”

The two were led down a wide hallway, then into a massive room with a high ceiling and large windows that allowed the summer sunbeams to illuminate the place. Carpets were everywhere, so thick they seemed to reach to Colin's ankles, and beautiful paintings adorned the walls. Rich velvet curtains were pulled back from the windows, revealing sumptuous furniture exquisitely carved.

Colin was still looking around when a man entered from the right. Colin turned and saw that Lord Withington was a tall man, somewhat imposing. There was an aura of power about him, a sense of authority that Colin had noticed in other men of influence.