A slight young man of pleasing countenance approached at rapid pace. Halting under our tree, he bowed before me.
“Dear friend, you and your companion must be strangers here. Permit me to be your host and guide.”
It is scarcely possible for an Indian to pale, but Jitendra’s face was suddenly sickly. I politely declined the offer.
“You are surely not banishing me?” The stranger’s alarm would have been comic in any other circumstances.
“Why not?”
“You are my guru.” His eyes sought mine trustfully. “During my midday devotions, the blessed Lord Krishna appeared in a vision. He showed me two forsaken figures under this very tree. One face was yours, my master! Often have I seen it in meditation! What joy if you accept my humble services!”
“I too am glad you have found me. Neither God nor man has forsaken us!” Though I was motionless, smiling at the eager face before me, an inward obeisance cast me at the Divine Feet.
“Dear friends, will you not honor my home for a visit?”
“You are kind; but the plan is unfeasible. Already we are guests of my brother in Agra.”
“At least give me memories of touring Brindaban with you.”