She will redeem us by her own virtue from the penalty of our sin."
In wonderment and dismay Gobindalal closed his eyes. A cold tremble came over him. Presently he felt so faint that he fell in a stupor off the foot of the marble figure where he had sat.
In a trance in which he was he saw before his mind's eye a resplendent form of Bhramar. It said, "Do not die. Why should you? You have lost me. But there is One dearer than myself. Live, love Him; you will be happy."
There Gobindalal lay all night in a half-dreamy, half-senseless state. Next morning his relations hearing of the plight in which he lay hastened to him, restored him to his senses and brought him home. Soon after this he fell very ill. He had a fever, and a fever of the worst kind, for it attacked both mind and body. Some days later he became delirious, and for a week after that, hung between life and death. He was treated with great care. After about three months he was well again. Then all expected he would continue to stay at home; but they were mistaken. He left the house one night without being noticed by any one, and was gone. But whither he was gone no one knew. **** Seven years elapsed, and Gobindalal was not heard of. The natural inference from this was that he was no longer amongst the living. His sister's son Sachikanta, of whom we had no occasion to speak before, came into his estate, having attained his majority.
Sachikanta had heard an account of the errors of his uncle's life, and of the sad consequences which resulted from them. He used pretty often to come out to the garden, which was once his uncle's favourite resort, but which now had the look of a desert. Often would the young man's eyes fill with tears whenever he mused over the mournful end of his uncle's life and the sufferings his good young wife had been through.
Months had gone by. Sachikanta reclaimed the garden. In it he planted varieties of flower trees, constructed spacious gravel walks and set up new marble figures in place of those that were either broken or deformed, so that it looked as beautiful again as in the old happy days of Gobindalal's life.
One day when Sachikanta was taking a stroll in his garden there came to him a man who was habited after the manner of an ascetic. He wore long matted hair on his head, and his beard almost kissed his breast. "Do you know me?" said he, suddenly appearing before him. "I am your uncle, Gobindalal Roy."
Sachikanta was struck dumb with astonishment. For a while he looked attentively at his uncle and knew him. Overjoyed to find he was alive he fell on his knees before him and kissed the dust of his feet. Gobindalal laid his hand on his head and blessed him. The young man insisted on his going home with him, but he refused. "I came just to see my native village after these many years. I must be off now," said he.
"We should be so happy if you would stay, sir, and look after your estate," said Sachikanta.
"No, my boy, I can no more have any pleasure in anything of this world. I am happy in the life I am leading. After such fearful storms as I have seen in my life I have come to a haven than which a better and safer one can never be. God is my haven. My life, as long as it is spared, I will devote to His service, He helping me. Farewell, my boy. May God prosper you."
When he had said that, he left him and walked away with hurried steps and was quickly gone. After this he was nevermore seen in Haridragram nor ever heard of again.
Translated by
D. C. Roy.
The end.
