Bál Mukand, where he lay, opened his eyes a little, and he could see with what a look of pleasure his friend Shib Das drew four rupees from his store, and gave them into the hand of Yuhanna.
“It is strange, O Shib Das,” observed the catechist, “that you give more to the church fund than do even baboos in government employ. You are not, I believe, a rich man. How is it that when we ask for offerings to God we never find your bag empty?”
“The reason is very simple,” was Shib Das’s cheerful reply. “I am a Christian, and I try to obey what is written in the Word of my God regarding offerings made unto Him: Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him (1 Cor. xvi. 2). At least a tenth of the profits of my trade I look upon as the Lord’s, and not my own. Thus I ever have money at hand to give; and when I give it, I never miss it.”
“God will accept your gift, and will bless you,” said the catechist earnestly, ere he turned and went on his way.
And what was the thought of Bál Mukand as he lay, apparently asleep, in the innermost and darkest part of the shop? “If all men showed such piety and charity, this would be a happy land,” he said in his heart. “The poverty of such men as Shib Das is better than the wealth of the worldly.”
The next person who came to the shop was the bearer of a government official of rank. He carried with him a necklace which had been broken in many places. Some of the precious stones had dropped from their setting. The bearer, whose name was Parduman, showed the broken ornament to Shib Das.
“Can you mend this for the Mem Sahiba?” asked he.
Shib Das was skilful in his craft, and he said that he could certainly mend the necklace. His heart was glad, for this was the first time that the poor Christian goldsmith had been offered employment by any of the Sahib log, and it seemed to him as if God were sending prosperity to his house.
“The Mem Sahiba must have her necklace back on Monday,” said the bearer, “for she is going to a grand ball on that night.”
“I cannot finish the work so soon,” said Shib Das, after carefully examining the broken ornament. A short time before, he would have readily made a promise, whether he had hoped to be able to keep it or not; but now that Shib Das served the God of truth, he would have suffered any loss rather than have broken his word.