before leaving you, I request you to inform me as to where your sister is. She was a child of two years of age when I saw her twenty years ago. She must be about twenty-two or twenty-three now. Where is she?”
Tears trickled down the eyes of Kapâlî when his sister was mentioned. Said he:—
“Do not, my patron, think of her. She is lost to the world. I am ashamed to think of her. Why should we think of such a wretch at this happy time?”
At once the inscription made by Brahmâ’s nail rushed into Subrahmanya’s mind and he understood what was meant. Said he:—
“Never mind; be open and tell me where she is.”
Then her brother, Kapâlî, with his eyes still wet with tears, said that his sister, the daughter of the sage Jñânanidhi, was leading the worst of lives in an adjoining village, and that her name was Kalyâni.
Subrahmanya took leave of Kapâlî and his wife, after blessing his little children and again warning his friend. He had conferred what happiness he could upon his master’s son, and now the thought of reforming his master’s daughter reigned supreme in his heart. He went at once to the village indicated and reached it at about nightfall. After an easy search he found her house and knocked at
