One morning Gunga Ram, Ya’kub, and Isa Das, on their way to the rice-field, passed close to the spot on which their pastor, Ghopal, by the aid of the Sahib Log, had been building a church. Money had come from praying people in England, and brick by brick the church had risen, until only the roof was wanting. Then there came heavy rains, and the river swelled and rose, and overflowed its banks. The storm beat against the unfinished building, and the labour of months was swept away in a day. The rain ceased, the river flowed again in its usual channel; but where a goodly church had been rising, alas, there were now but ruins!
Gunga Ram, Ya’kub, and Isa Das stood gazing upon these ruins, sorrowful to see the destruction wrought by the flood.
“The heart of the Padre Ghopal will be exceeding sad,” said Isa Das. “It was his joy day by day to see his church rising, and to think of the time when he should gather in it his people, as a shepherd gathers his flock.”
“He will build up the church again, and build it more strongly,” said Ya’kub.
“Alas! my friend, where shall the money come from?” cried Isa Das. “I heard Padre Ghopal say but yesterday, with tears in his eyes, that he fears that he can get no more rupees from England. The Collector Sahib, who gave thirty gold mohurs, has gone from the station; and Manton Sahib, who fills his place, has refused to give even a pice.”[12]
“Manton Sahib is very stingy!” cried Ya’kub. “He has a grand bungalow, fine carriages and horses, and feasts like a prince; he could give many gold mohurs and not miss them. Why does he not help to build up our church?”
“Manton Sahib told Padre Ghopal that the people should build one for themselves,” Isa Das made reply.
Then his two companions shook their heads, and said bitter things against the Sahib who cared not to help in such a good work.
“How can we who are so poor build a church?” exclaimed Ya’kub. “We live in small huts, and seldom eat anything better than rice and fruit. I have really not enjoyed one good satisfying meal since the marriage of my younger brother, two years ago.” Ya’kub sighed at the remembrance of that great feast—the rich dishes, the pastry, and the sweetmeats; for a feast was to Ya’kub the greatest of joys, and he knew not when he should taste such another again.