Seeing Tarkasiddhanta, someone said, “Sir, have you heard? The Bitlals, having lost everything, have come running back here out of fear of the warrant—yet they show no shame in displaying their faces! Baburam left behind a fine pestle for the destruction of the family line.” Tarkasiddhanta replied, “The village had cooled down in the absence of those rascals—have they come back again? Ah, Mother Ganga, if only you would show a little mercy, we might yet be saved.”

Many other Brahmins were bathing; upon hearing the news of the return of the young babus, their teeth began to chatter. They thought to themselves, “It seems we shall have to offer today’s bath and daily rites to Srikrishna himself.” The shopkeepers and merchants, glancing toward the ghat, said, “Well! We’d heard that Moti Babu would return with all his wealth, beating the drums in triumph—now, never mind the wealth, we can’t even spot a single fisherman’s dinghy.” Premnarayan said, “Don’t be anxious—Moti Babu, owing to the troubles of Kamala and Kamini, has ended up in the southern cremation ground. The Babu is a man of great piety—a blessed son of the Goddess. Soon you’ll see dinghies, wealth, and ships, and while you’re still frying puffed rice and lentils, you’ll hear the sound of the drums.”

The matter of a pure heart, Thakchacha’s forged warrant, Barda Babu’s sorrow, Motilal’s fear; the meeting and conversation of Becharam and Banchharam.

A foul morning breeze was blowing—the fragrances of champak, shefali, and jasmine wafted through the air. The birds were chirping, their eyes bright with excitement. Because of the matchmaker, Benibabu was deep in conversation with Barda Babu at home. From the south, a pack of dogs began barking, and the street boys came running, shouting “ho ho!” When the commotion eased a little, the shrill voices of “Go away!” and “Don’t go to the Gopis’ house, I warn you!” floated to their ears in a wave of comic delight.

Benibabu and Barda Babu got up and saw that Becharam Babu of Bahubazar was approaching—lost in song, whistling continuously. The dogs were barking, the boys were shouting, and the residents of Bahubazar, annoyed, were shooing them away. As Becharam drew near, Benibabu and Barda Babu rose and respectfully welcomed him, offering him a seat. After exchanging pleasantries, Becharam Babu placed his hand on Barda Babu’s shoulder and said, “Brother!” From childhood, I have seen many kinds of people—indeed, many of them possess many virtues. But whether I call them good or bad, with their faults and merits, that is another matter. Yet, such humility, simplicity, courage in matters of faith, and pure-heartedness towards others as you possess—I have not seen in anyone else. I myself try to walk humbly, it is true, but at times, when I see the pride of others, my own pride is roused—and as soon as pride arises, anger follows, and in anger, my pride swells all the more. I spare no one—whatever comes to mind, I say it then and