The servant Narayan Das prostrated himself before his great Master, and said, “The will of my Lord shall be obeyed.” Narayan Das had a happy home, but he went forth from it; he had parents whom he loved, but he bade them farewell. The sea was wide and the waves were rough, but he feared not to cross them; lo! he had good tidings to bear to the sons of his Lord, and the joy of bearing them repaid him for all the toils and dangers of the journey before him.
After a long and stormy voyage, the messenger from the Father reached the land of Hindostan; and a few days afterwards he arrived at the city in which the four brothers dwelt, even Mulá Mal, Biharí Lal, Tulsí Rám, and Nihál Chand. Narayan Das was weary and faint, but he would not rest till he had inquired the way to the dwelling of Mulá Mal, who was the eldest of the four brothers, who lived in different quarters of the same city.
When the messenger entered the presence of Mulá Mal, he saw in him a man who had upon his brow the spot which marked a worshipper of the goddess Kalí.[31] It was the morning of a great festival, and Mulá Mal was about to set forth to bathe in the Ganges,[32] and to do puja (worship) to the idol whom he adored.
“O Mulá Mal!” cried Narayan Das, “I bring to you good tidings from your great and all-merciful Father. There is a treasure hidden for you at the foot of a Cross, and I can direct you how to find it. But you must set forth at once, or, behold! another may take the treasure, and you may lose for ever the opportunity of gaining these jewels, Pardon, Purity, and Heaven.”
But Mulá Mal thought scorn of the faithful messenger, because he was not in face or garb as one of the people of Hindostan.
“Who art thou, O man of the pale cheek and red beard?” he cried; “and what dost thou ask at my hand?”[33]
“I am a servant of Kamíl Rahím, and your friend; and I come, not to take from you, but to give to you,” replied Narayan Das; “yea, I have risked my life to bring to you good tidings from afar.”
“I care not for thy tidings, nor do I believe thy word,” cried Mulá Mal with contempt. “Why dost thou delay me, when I am about to do puja to my great goddess?”
“O my lord,” cried Narayan Das earnestly, “there is no image made by the hands of man that can bestow on its worshipper Pardon, Purity, and Heaven. Wherefore will my lord not listen? Will he spurn from him the richest of treasures,—even treasures that will, if worn over the heart, preserve him in danger, keep him in health, and make him the heir to a throne? Read but this letter from your Father, and see in it the truth of all that I have spoken;” and Narayan Das drew from his bosom a book on which was inscribed these words: “The Holy Scriptures.”