'
"I was deeply mortified to see I had injured the person of a
divine--looking sage. Prostrating myself at his feet, I implored
his pardon, and offered my turban-cloth to staunch the heavy spurts
of blood.
"'Son, that was just an understandable mistake on your part.' The
saint regarded me kindly. 'Run along, and don't reproach yourself.
The Beloved Mother is taking care of me.' He pushed his dangling
arm into its stump and lo! it adhered; the blood inexplicably ceased
to flow.
"'Come to me under yonder tree in three days and you will find me
fully healed. Thus you will feel no remorse.'
"Yesterday my brother officer and I went eagerly to the designated
spot. The SADHU was there and allowed us to examine his arm. It
bore no scar or trace of hurt!
"'I am going via Rishikesh to the Himalayan solitudes.' He blessed
us as he departed quickly. I feel that my life has been uplifted
through his sanctity."
The officer concluded with a pious ejaculation; his experience had
obviously moved him beyond his usual depths. With an impressive
gesture, he handed me a printed clipping about the miracle. In
the usual garbled manner of the sensational type of newspaper (not
missing, alas! even in India), the reporter's version was slightly
exaggerated: it indicated that the SADHU had been almost decapitated!
Amar and I lamented that we had missed the great yogi who could
forgive his persecutor in such a Christlike way.
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