“What makes my shame and grief all the greater,” continued Tulsí Rám after a pause, “is to know that my brave and noble youngest brother, Nihál Chand, has done what I dared not do. He trampled down the thorns under his feet; he heeded not the briers of Loss and Contempt; he pressed on as a strong racer who seeth the goal near, and already heareth the shouts of those who will behold him lay his hand on the prize. He was as a hero who flincheth not in the day of battle. Nihál Chand burst through Persecution; he crossed the waters of Baptism; and now, without doubt, he is wearing the Father’s gift, all his sins pardoned, his virtues shining forth in his life, and his spirit rejoicing in hope of a crown to be worn for ever and ever. I, on the contrary, a wretched coward, shall bewail my weakness to the end of my days, and shall at last perish without pardon, and sink into outer darkness.”
Tulsí Rám smote his breast, for he felt as a criminal who heareth the sentence of death. Then Juwalí who sat at her husband’s feet, lifted up her mild eyes and spake thus:—
“O my lord! surely it is not too late to do now what Nihál Chand has done; it is not too late to arise and go forth to seek the treasure. My lord will take yon staff of Prayer in his hand, and with it beat down some of the briers and thorns. It is far better to have the flesh torn than the heart broken; it is better to suffer for a short space than to be wretched for ever.”
Tulsí Rám listened with some surprise to such brave words from the lips of a woman. Then said he, “Behold, I see two staffs of Prayer. Wherefore should two be provided?”
Then Juwalí blushed and drooped her head, as in a low voice she replied, “I, even I, am ready to go with my lord.”
“Thou!” exclaimed the astonished husband. “Canst thou, feeble woman, endure the thorns of Persecution and the briers of Contempt? Hast thou no regard for thy caste? Thou art weak, and a stranger to the dangers of the world; thou hast ever been sheltered from all troubles, as the pearl shut closely up in its shell.”
Juwalí grasped the staff, and said, though with a trembling voice,—“I am weak, but I can lean hard upon Prayer. As for troubles, will it not be a joy to share them with my dear lord? Let all my neighbours despise me, so that I be but fair in his eyes. As regards caste, surely the highest caste of all is to belong to the family of the Great King. O my lord, let us set forth at once; let us cross the river of Baptism together! I am but a woman; but I have learned from that blessed Book that the great Father loves His daughters as well as His sons; and who knows whether even for me some gift may not be reserved? Unworthy as I am even to look upon them, may not I too, possibly, receive the jewels of Pardon, Purity, and Heaven?”
Then Tulsí Rám, as from a sudden impulse, sprang to his feet. “Shall a woman be ready to leave all, and dare all, and suffer all,” he exclaimed; “and shall a man shrink back like a coward! O Juwalí, light of my eyes! thy voice is like the voice of hope to thy husband. I will follow the example of my brave brother; come what may, we will cross the waters of Baptism.”
Very early in the following morning, before the sun had risen, Tulsí Rám and Juwalí, each with a staff of Prayer in hand, and the husband with the Book in his bosom, started from their home and commenced their journey. The earth was glowing in the bright light of the sun before they reached the top of the bank which overlooked the river of Baptism. By this time the slender frame of Juwalí was weary; but she leaned on her staff, and looked now tenderly at the husband whose steps she followed, now on the glorious sky above her. Juwalí thought of Pardon, Purity, and Heaven, and then she forgot her weariness. Till now Tulsí Rám had walked on in front; but he stopped on the top of the bank, and let his wife come up with him. He feared that she would never have strength to pass through the terrible thorns of Persecution. Tulsí’s own heart was again failing him; but when he looked sadly and anxiously at Juwalí, she met his look with a smile.
“Wilt thou not wait and rest a while?” asked the husband.