“‘Lahiri should return to the Danapur [34-9] office,’ it read. ‘His transfer to Ranikhet occurred by error. Another man should have been sent to assume the Ranikhet duties.’
“I smiled, reflecting on the hidden crosscurrents in the events which had led me to this furthermost spot of India.
“Before returning to Danapur, I spent a few days with a Bengali family at Moradabad. A party of six friends gathered to greet me. As I turned the conversation to spiritual subjects, my host observed gloomily:
“‘Oh, in these days India is destitute of saints!’
“‘Babu,’ I protested warmly, ‘of course there are still great masters in this land!’
“In a mood of exalted fervor, I felt impelled to relate my miraculous experiences in the Himalayas. The little company was politely incredulous.
“‘Lahiri,’ one man said soothingly, ‘your mind has been under a strain in those rarefied mountain airs. This is some daydream you have recounted.’
“Burning with the enthusiasm of truth, I spoke without due thought. ‘If I call him, my guru will appear right in this house.’
“Interest gleamed in every eye; it was no wonder that the group was eager to behold a saint materialized in such a strange way. Half- reluctantly, I asked for a quiet room and two new woolen blankets.
“‘The master will materialize from the ether,’ I said. ‘Remain silently outside the door; I shall soon call you.’