“Your willingness does you credit. I’ll escort you to the train at once.” Ananta turned to the openmouthed Jitendra. “You must go along as a witness and, very likely, a fellow victim!” A half hour later Jitendra and I were in possession of one-way tickets for our impromptu trip. We submitted, in a secluded corner of the station, to a search of our persons. Ananta was quickly satisfied that we were carrying no hidden hoard; our simple DHOTIS {FN11-3} concealed nothing more than was necessary. As faith invaded the serious realms of finance, my friend spoke protestingly. “Ananta, give me one or two rupees as a safeguard. Then I can telegraph you in case of misfortune.” “Jitendra!” My ejaculation was sharply reproachful. “I will not proceed with the test if you take any money as final security.” “There is something reassuring about the clink of coins.” Jitendra said no more as I regarded him sternly. “Mukunda, I am not heartless.” A hint of humility had crept into Ananta’s voice. It may be that his conscience was smiting him; perhaps for sending two insolvent boys to a strange city; perhaps for his own religious skepticism. “If by any chance or grace you pass successfully through the Brindaban ordeal, I shall ask you to initiate me as your disciple.” This promise had a certain irregularity, in keeping with the unconventional occasion. The eldest brother in an Indian family seldom bows before his juniors; he receives respect and obedience second only to a father. But no time remained for my comment; our train was at point of departure. Jitendra maintained a lugubrious silence as our train covered the miles. Finally he bestirred himself; leaning over, he pinched me painfully at an awkward spot. “I see no sign that God is going to supply our next meal!” “Be quiet, doubting Thomas; the Lord is working with us.” “Can you also arrange that He hurry? Already I am famished merely at the prospect before us. I left Benares to view the Taj’s mausoleum, not to enter my own!” “Cheer up, Jitendra! Are we not to have our first glimpse of the sacred wonders of Brindaban? {FN11-4} I am in deep joy at thought of treading the ground hallowed by feet of Lord Krishna.” [Illustration: (Left to Right) Jitendra Mazumdar, my companion on the “penniless test” at Brindaban; Lalit-da, my cousin; Swami Kebelananda (“Shastri Mahasaya”), my saintly Sanskrit tutor; myself, as a high school youth—see friends.jpg] The door of our compartment opened; two men seated themselves. The next train stop would be the last. “Young lads, do you have friends in Brindaban?” The stranger opposite me was taking a surprising interest. “None of your business!” Rudely I averted my gaze. “You are probably flying away from your families under the enchantment of the Stealer of Hearts. {FN11-5} I am of devotional temperament myself. I will make it my positive duty to see that you receive food, and shelter from this overpowering heat.”