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Joy was within me as I boarded the train, but this was Jitendra's day for tears. My affectionate farewell to Pratap had been punctuated by stifled sobs from both my companions. The journey once more found Jitendra in a welter of grief. Not for himself this time, but against himself. "How shallow my trust! My heart has been stone! Never in future shall I doubt God's protection!"
We submitted, in a secluded corner of the station, to a search of our persons. As faith invaded the serious realms of finance, my friend spoke protestingly. "Ananta, give me one or two rupees as a safeguard. Then I can telegraph you in case of misfortune." "Jitendra!" My ejaculation was sharply reproachful. "I will not proceed with the test if you take any money as final security."
I found there everything my heart had been longing for! You may be sure it was not your pundit or his son!" Ananta joined me in reminiscent laughter; he had had to admit that the Benares "clairvoyant" he selected was a shortsighted one. "What are your plans, my wandering brother?" "Jitendra persuaded me to Agra. "Then we are going to my newly-found guru, who has a hermitage in Serampore."
Gauri Ma smiled in motherly fashion on her two unexpected charges. "You could not have come on a better day. I was expecting two royal patrons of this hermitage. What a shame if my cooking had found none to appreciate it!" These appetizing words had disastrous effect on Jitendra: he burst into tears.
"You forget God quickly, now that your stomach is filled." My words, not bitter, were accusatory. How short is human memory for divine favors! No man lives who has not seen certain of his prayers granted. "I am not likely to forget my folly in venturing out with a madcap like you!" "Be quiet, Jitendra! The same Lord who fed us will show us Brindaban, and return us to Agra."
My friend and I made for the shelter of a lordly cadamba tree at the ashram gate. Sharp words followed; once again Jitendra was beset with misgivings. "A fine mess you have got me into! Our luncheon was only accidental good fortune! How can we see the sights of this city, without a single pice between us? And how on earth are you going to take me back to Ananta's?"
Once again I gazed on the Taj Mahal; in memory Jitendra stood by my side, awed by the dream in marble. Then on to the Brindaban ashram of Swami Keshabananda. My object in seeking out Keshabananda was connected with this book. I had never forgotten Sri Yukteswar's request that I write the life of Lahiri Mahasaya.
"Mukunda is a parasite, accepting hermitage hospitality without making proper return." Overhearing this remark, I regretted for the first time that I had obeyed the request to send back my money to Father. With heavy heart, I sought out my sole friend, Jitendra. "I am leaving. Please convey my respectful regrets to Dyanandaji when he returns." "I will leave also!
Ashram disciples passed to and fro with some thirty courses. Rather than "meal," the description can only be "sumptuous repast." Since arriving on this planet, Jitendra and I had never before tasted such delicacies. "Dishes fit for princes indeed, Honored Mother! What your royal patrons could have found more urgent than attending this banquet, I cannot imagine!
But no time remained for my comment; our train was at point of departure. Jitendra maintained a lugubrious silence as our train covered the miles. Finally he bestirred himself; leaning over, he pinched me painfully at an awkward spot. "I see no sign that God is going to supply our next meal!" "Be quiet, doubting Thomas; the Lord is working with us." "Can you also arrange that He hurry?
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