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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Please allow me to gain this religious merit." Pratap smiled pleadingly as he held out a bundle of rupee notes and two tickets, just purchased, to Agra. The reverence of my acceptance was for the Invisible Hand. Scoffed at by Ananta, had Its bounty not far exceeded necessity? We sought out a secluded spot near the station.
When Kashi stopped for rest, Pratap smilingly winked at Barajlal and spoke to him in a whisper, "Master, now let us hear music and not this new-fangled singing, which mimics frisky kittens hunting paralysed mice." The old singer with his spotlessly white turban made a deep bow to the assembly and took his seat.
But the gap still yawned: and the tortured notes refused to serve the need, suddenly changed their tune, and broke into a sob. The master laid his head on his instrument, and in place of his forgotten music, there broke from him the first cry of life that a child brings into the world. Pratap touched him gently on his shoulder, and said, "Come away, our meeting is elsewhere.
What then was his relief and surprise when a message was brought to him that the vizier was at the door of the palace and begged for an interview. "Bring him in at once," cried Surya Pratap. And the next moment Dhairya-Sila stood before his master, his hands folded on his breast and his head bent in token of his submission.
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