On arrival there, they went to the vicinity of a tank, where they found collected together the afflicted, the blind, the lame, the sorrowful and the poor, all in tears. The girl’s mother said to an old woman amongst them: “My friend, why are you all in tears?” “Ah, mother!” replied the woman, “there is a certain Babu here; words fail me to tell of his virtues: he goes about among the homes of the poor and afflicted, and is continually attending to their wants, supplying them with food and clothing, and, moreover, he watches by the bedside of the sick at night, administering medicines and proper diet. He sympathises with us in all our joys and all our sorrows. Tears come into my eyes at the mere thought of the Babu’s virtues. Blessed is the woman who has borne such a child in her womb: she is certainly destined for the joys of heaven. The place where such a one lives is holy ground. It is our miserable destiny that this Babu is just leaving the country: our tears are flowing at the thought of what our condition will be when he has gone.” The two women, hearing this, said to each other: “All our hopes appear to be fruitless: sorrow is our destined lot. Who can rub the writing off our foreheads?” Seeing their despondency, the old woman already mentioned said to them, “I fancy you are ladies of good family who have fallen into misfortune: if you are in want of money, then come with me at once to the Babu, for he assists many persons of good family as well as the poor.” The two women at once agreed to this, and following the old woman they remained outside, while she entered the house.
The day was drawing to a close: the rays of the setting sun gave a golden tinge to the trees and to the tanks. Near where the two women were standing was a small walled garden, in which every variety of creeper was growing, carefully trained on trellis work: the turf in it was nicely kept, and at intervals raised platforms had been erected to serve as seats. Two gentlemen were walking about in this garden, hand in hand, like Krishna and Arjuna; as their gaze chanced to fall upon the two women outside, they hurried out of the garden to meet them. The two women, out of confusion, veiled their faces and drew a little to one side. Then the younger of the two men said to them in a gentle tone: “Regard us as your sons: do not be ashamed: tell us fully the reason of your coming here: and if any assistance can be rendered by us, we will not fail to render it.” Hearing these words, the mother, taking her daughter by the hand, moved forward a little, and briefly informed them of the plight they were in. Even before she had finished telling her story, the two men looked at each other, and the younger of them, in the enthusiasm of his joy, fell to the ground, exclaiming, “My mother! my mother!” The other, and the elder of the two, made a profound obeisance to the sorrowful mother, and, with his hands humbly folded, said, “Dear lady, look, look! He who has fallen to the ground is your precious one, your treasure[77]: he is your Ram! and my name is Barada Prasad Biswas.” When she heard this, the mother unveiled her face, and said: “Oh, dear sir, what is this that you are saying? Shall such a destiny as this befall so miserable a wretch as I am?” On coming to himself, Ramlall bowed down to the earth before his mother, and remained motionless. Taking her son’s head into her bosom and weeping the while, his mother poured the cool waters of consolation over his heated mind; and his sister, with the edge of her sari, wiped away his tears and the dust that had collected on him, and remained still and silent.
By-and-by the old woman, not finding the Babu in the house, came running into the garden, and when she saw him lying on the ground with his head in the lap of the elder of the two women, she screamed out: “Dear me, what is the matter? Oh dear! Oh dear! Is the Babu ill? Shall I go and fetch a kabiraj?” Barada Prasad Babu said to her, “Be quiet, the Babu has not been taken ill: these two women that you see are the Babu’s mother and his sister.” “Oh Babu!” exclaimed the old woman, “Must you make fun of me because I am a poor old woman? Why, the Babu is a very rich man: is he not the chosen lord of Lakshmi? and these two women are but poor tramps: they came with me. How can one be his mother, and the other his sister? I rather fancy they are witches from Kamikhya who have deceived you by their magical arts. Oh, dear! I have never seen such women. I humbly salute their magic.” And the old woman went away in high dudgeon, muttering to herself.
Having recovered their composure, they all went into the house, and great was the satisfaction of the mother when she found Mati’s wife and her own co-wife there. Having received full particulars of all the other members of her family she said: “Ah, my son, Ram! come, let us now return home: as for my Mati, I do not know what has become of him, and I am very anxious on his account.” Ramlall had been already prepared to return home: he had a boat, and everything ready at the ghât. Having, in accordance with his mother’s instructions, ascertained an auspicious day for the journey[78], he took them all with him, and prepared to depart. The people of Mathura all thronged round him at the time of his departure: thousands of eyes filled with tears: from thousands of mouths issued songs in celebration of Ramlall’s virtues: and thousands of hands were uplifted in blessing. As for the old woman, who had gone away in such dudgeon, she drew near Ramlall’s mother, with her hands humbly folded, and wept. All remained standing on the banks of the river Jumna, like so many lifeless and inanimate beings, until the boat had passed away out of their sight. As the current was running down and the wind was not blowing strong from the south, the boat glided quickly down, and they all reached Benares in a few days.
Early morning in Benares! Oh the beauty of the scene! There in their thousands were Brahmans of two Vedas, and Brahmans of four Vedas, worshippers of Ram, worshippers of Vishnu, worshippers of Shiva, followers of Shakti, worshippers of Ganesh, religious devotees and Brahman students, all devoutly engaged in reciting their hymns and prayers. There too in their thousands were men reciting portions of the Samvedas, and hymns to Agni and Vayu: crowds of women, hailing from Surat, from the Mahratta country, from Bengal, and from Behar, all clothed in silk garments of various hues, were engaged in perambulating the temples after due performance of their ablutions: beyond calculation in number were the temples sweetly perfumed with the odours of aromatic tapers, of incense, of flowers, and of sandal. Devotees in countless numbers crowded the streets puffing their cheeks, and shaking their sides, as they shouted aloud in enthusiasm: “Oh, Mahadeva! Lord of the Universe!” Women, devotees of Shiva, carrying tridents in their hands, and wearing scarlet raiment, were perambulating in their hundreds, about the temple of Shiva, engaged in their devotions to Shiva and Durga, and laughing madly the while. Ascetics there were in great numbers, who striving hard to subdue their bodies, and their passions, sat solitary with their hands uplifted, hair all matted, and bodies covered with ashes. There, too, in countless numbers, were religious devotees, each sitting apart by himself in some secluded corner, engaged in various mystic ceremonies, now emitting their breath, now holding it in: musicians and singers with their lutes and their tabors, their violins and their guitars, were there in great numbers, all completely absorbed in every variety of tone and tune.
Ramlall and his companions remained four days in Benares, bathing and performing other ceremonies at the Mani Karnika Ghât. He was always with his mother and sister, and in the evening he used to roam about with Barada Babu. One day, in the course of their walks, they saw a beautiful pavilion before them. An old man was sitting inside gazing at the beauty of the Bhagirathi: the river was flowing swiftly by, its waters rippling and murmuring in their course; and so transparently clear was it that it seemed to bear on its bosom the many-hued evening sky. On the approach of Ramlall, the old man addressing him as an old acquaintance said: “What was your opinion of the Upanishad of Shuka[79] when you read it?” Ramlall looked intently at the old man, and saluted him respectfully. The old man a little disconcerted said to him: “Sir, I perceive I have made a mistake: I have a pupil whose face is exactly like yours. I mistook you for him when I addressed you.” Ramlall and Barada Babu then sat down beside the old man and began to converse on a variety of topics connected with the Shástras. Meanwhile a person with a somewhat anxious expression of countenance came and sat beside them, keeping his head down. Barada Babu, gazing intently at him, exclaimed: “Ram! Ram! do you not see? It is your elder brother sitting by you.” On hearing these words, Ramlall’s hair stood on end with astonishment, and he looked at Matilall, Matilall, looking at Ramlall, suddenly started up, and embraced him: and remaining for some time motionless, he said: “Oh, my brother! will you forgive me?” and then winding his arms round his younger brother’s neck, he bathed his shoulders in his tears. For some time both remained silent: no words issued from their mouths, and they began to realise the real meaning of the word ‘brother.’ Then Matilall, prostrating himself at the feet of Barada Babu and, taking the dust off his feet, said, as he humbly folded his hands: “Honoured sir, now at length I have come to know your real worth: forgive me, worthless wretch that I am.” Barada Babu, taking the two brothers by the hand, then took leave of the old man, and they all proceeded on their way, each in turn telling his story as they went. When Barada Babu, after a long converse, perceived the change that had taken place in Matilall’s mind, his delight knew no bounds. On coming to where the other members of his family were, Matilall, while still some distance off, exclaimed with a loud voice: “Oh, mother, mother, where are you? Your wicked son has returned to you: he is now alive and well, he is not dead: ah, mother! considering what my behaviour towards you has been, I do not wish to show you my face; it is my wish to see your feet only just once before I die.” On hearing these words, his mother approached with cheerful mind, and tearful eyes, and found priceless wealth in gazing on her eldest son’s face. Matilall at once fell prostrate at her feet: his mother then raised him up, and as she wiped away his tears with the border of her sari said: “Oh, Mati, your stepmother, your sister, and your wife are all here: come and see them at once.” After greeting his stepmother and sister, Matilall, seeing his wife, wept at the remembrance of his previous history, and exclaimed: “Oh my mother, I have been as bad a husband as I have been a son and a brother. I am in no way worthy of so estimable a wife: a man and woman, at the time of marriage, take a form of oath before the Almighty that they will love each other as long as life lasts, and that they will never forsake each other, even though they may fall into great trouble; the wife too, that she will never turn her thoughts to another man, and the husband that he will never think of another woman, as in such thoughts there is grievous sin. I have acted in numberless ways contrary to this oath: how is it then that I have not been deserted by my wife? Such a brother and a sister as I have too! I have done them an irreparable injury. And such a mother! than whom a man can have no more priceless possession on earth. Ah, mother, I have given you endless trouble. I, your son, actually struck you! What atonement can there be for all these sins? If I were only to die at this moment I might find deliverance from the fire that is burning within me, but I almost think that death has been the cause of its own death; for I see no sign of disease even, the messenger of death. However, do you now all of you return home. I will remain with my teacher in this city, and depart this life in the practice of stern austerities.” After this Barada Babu, Ramlall, and his mother, summoned to them Matilall’s spiritual teacher, and explained matters to him at length, and then took Matilall away with them.
While their boat was tied up to the shore at nightfall, off Monghyr, some one, resembling a boy in form, came close up to the boat, and raising himself up called out: “There is a light, there is a light.” Seeing this peculiar behaviour, Barada Babu, bidding them all to be very careful, got on to the deck of the cabin, and saw about twenty or thirty armed men in ambush in the jungle, all ready to attack as soon as they should get the signal. Ramlall and Barada Babu got their guns out at once, and began firing: at the sound of the firing, the dacoits withdrew into the jungle. Barada Babu and Ramlall were eager to follow them up with swords and apprehend them, and give them in charge to the neighbouring inspector of police, but their families forbade it. When Matilall saw what had happened he said: “My training has been bad in every way. I have been utterly ruined by my life of luxury. I used to laugh at Ramlall when he was practising gymnastics, but now I recognise that without manly exercise from one’s boyhood courage cannot exist. I was in a terrible fright just now, and if it had not been for Ramlall and Barada Babu we should all have been killed.”
In a few days they all arrived at Vaidyabati, and proceeded to Barada Babu’s house. Hearing of the return of Barada Babu and Ramlall, the villagers came from all parts to see them: joy uprose in the minds of all, and their faces beamed with delight: and all, eager for their welfare, showered down upon them prayers and flowers of blessing. On the following day, Herambar Chandra Chaudhuri Babu came, and said to Ramlall: “Ram Babu! without understanding the full circumstances of the case, and acting on Bancharam Babu’s advice, I have obtained possession of your family house: I am really sorry that I should have entered into possession, and so driven away the members of your family: take up your abode there, whenever it suits your good pleasure.” To this Ramlall replied: “I am exceedingly obliged to you: and if it is really your wish to give me the house back, we shall be under an obligation to you if you will accept your legitimate claims.” Upon Herambar Babu agreeing to this proposal, Ramlall at once paid the money out of his own pocket, and drew up a deed in the name of the two brothers, and then, accompanied by the other members of the family, returned to the family house; raising his eye to heaven, and with heartfelt gratitude, he exclaimed: “Lord of the world, nothing is impossible with Thee.”
Soon after this Ramlall married, and the two brothers passed their lives very happily, striving, with exceeding affection, to promote the happiness of their mother and the other members of their family. Under the favour of Durga, the granter of boons, Barada Babu went on special employment to Badaraganj. Becharam Babu, becoming by the sale of his property the true Becharam, went to live at Benares. Beni Babu, who had been for some time the independent gentleman without much training, turned his attention to the practice of law. Bancharam Babu, after a long course of trickery and chicanery, was at length killed by lightning. Bakreswar went roaming about, making nothing for all his obsequious flattery. Thakchacha and Bahulya, transported for life to the Andamans for forgery, were set to hard labour, chained hand and foot, and at length died after enduring unparalleled sufferings. The wife of Thakchacha, being left without resources, roamed about the lanes singing the song of her craft as a seller of glass bracelets:—
“Bracelets, fine bracelets have I.”
“Come and buy, come and buy!”