8 The Other Side of the Wall

CHAPTER 8 The Other Side of the Wall In the kitchen, it was a mystery how the servants knew and gossiped about everything. There, Sara learned more about the Indian gentleman who had moved in next door. He had come from India, but he was really an Englishman who had been living in India only while he worked on a new business. He had become quite ill with brain fever, and had still not fully gotten better. For a time, it had seemed that his entire fortune was lost, and

he had almost died from shame, along with his sickness. His fortune had changed, though, and all that he owned had been given back to him. Still, knowing that he had let down his old school chum and the little girl was too much to bear. Sara felt butterflies in her stomach. The Indian gentleman's story was so much like her own papa's that, if she hadn't seen him for herself, she might have thought they were one and the same person. She was glad (at least for the Englishman's sake) that his story had turned out happier. From then on, the Indian gentleman held a special place in her heart. When she was sent out at night to fetch things, instead of grumbling, she was now eager. It gave her a better chance of spotting her new secret friend through his lighted window, as he gazed sadly into the fire. At

night, she would lie awake wondering about him. She wished that he had a little daughter, a "Little Missus" all his own, who could pamper him the way she had pampered her papa. Oh, her dear papa! It seemed like ages since she had sat at his knee talking of important things. It was worlds away. Meanwhile, right next door, on the other side of the wall, the Indian gentleman was lost in his own thoughts. Mr. Carrisford (for that was his real name) was thinking that he ought to feel happier. After all, he was a very lucky man. After a period of forgetfulness caused by the jungle fever, when he thought he had lost everything, his fortune had been returned, and his brain was just about back to normal as well. He had made many friends, including Mr. Carmichael next door (the head of the Large Family in real life). And Mr.

Carmichael's little girls, especially Janet and Nora, were such a joy to him. They visited often and brought him sweets and told him funny stories about their day. One time, they told him a quite unusual story, although it was hardly funny. They told him about their encounter with The Little Girl Who Is Not a Beggar. Ram Dass happened to hear what the girls were saying, and he came over to add to their story. "Why, that must be the same little girl who lives in the attic next door!" He then described Sara's bare attic room with its worn-out floorboards and broken plaster, its rusty and empty fireplace grate, and its hard, narrow bed. "I wonder how many poor little servant girls there are out there," Carrisford asked, "sleeping on such hard, awful beds while we lie peacefully on our feather pillows?" The thought seemed to sink him into an even

deeper mire of sadness. "My dear friend," begged Mr. Carmichael, who had arrived to pick up his daughters. "You must try not to think about such things. You are still in a weakened state—please try to rest and not upset yourself so." But Mr. Carrisford could not stop thinking of Sara and her pitiful attic room. "Do you suppose," he said slowly after a pause, "that the other child—" ("the child I never stop thinking of and searching for," he thought) "—could be out there somewhere, in a similar place, and in such misery?" Mr. Carmichael didn't know what to say. He knew, of course, what his friend was talking about. But there were no easy answers. Mr. Carrisford had told him the whole story about Captain Crewe and his daughter. Mr. Carrisford had gone to India to embark on an exciting new diamond mine business.

He had invited his old school chum, Captain Ralph Crewe, to be his partner. Things had been going smoothly until both men had fallen ill with jungle fever, which affects the mind. The fever had hit Carrisford particularly hard. He went so crazy that he was sure the business had failed. Half mad, and scared by the thought of losing both men's money, he could not face his best friend. He had run away and ended up in a hospital somewhere, where he did not wake up for weeks. Or at least, so he was told. Of course, when he did wake up, his best friend was already dead and buried. "He died thinking that I had made him a pauper and then run away!" he told Carmichael, his face full of pain. It was already a sad story, but that wasn't the worst part. Carrisford's friend Crewe also had a little girl. Crewe had often talked about his daughter, and Carrisford knew that