ificate and it was duly granted. One
day in September last, while I was reading in my room, I was ordered by
the audible voice of my blessed Guru, M---Maharsi, to leave all and
proceed immediately to Bombay, whence I was to go in search of Madame
Blavatsky wherever I could find her and follow her wherever she went.
Without losing a moment, I closed up all my affairs and left the
station. For the tones of that voice are to me the divinest sound in
Nature, its commands imperative. I traveled in my ascetic robes.
Arrived at Bombay, I found Madame Blavatsky gone, and learned through
you that she had left a few days before; that she was very ill; and
that, beyond the fact that she had left the place very suddenly with a
Chela, you knew nothing of her whereabouts. And now, I must tell you
what happened to me after I had left you.

Really not knowing whither I had best go, I took a through ticket to
Calcutta; but, on reaching Allahabad, I heard the same well-known
voice directing me to go to Berhampore. At Azimgunge, in the train, I
met, most providentially I may say, with some Bengali gentlemen (I did
not then know they were also Theosophists, since I had never seen any of
them), who were also in search of Madame Blavatsky. Some had traced her
to Dinapore, but lost her track and went back to Berhampore. They knew,
they said, she was going to Tibet and wanted to throw themselves at the
feet of the Mahatmas to permit them to accompany her. At last, as I was
told, they received from her a note, permitting them to come if they so
desired it, but saying that she herself was prohibited from going to
Tibet just now. She was to remain, she said, in the vicinity of
Darjiling and would see the Mahatma on the Sikkhim Territory, where they
would not be allowed to follow her .... Brother Nobin K. Bannerji, the
President of the Adhi Bhoutic Bhratru Theosophical Society, would not
tell me where Madame Blavatsky was, or perhaps did not then know
himself. Yet he and others had risked all in the hope of seeing the
Mahatmas. On the 23rd, at last he brought me from Calcutta to
Chandernagore, where I found Madame Blavatsky, ready to start by train
in five minutes. A tall, dark-looking hairy Chela (not Chunder Cusho),
but a Tibetan I suppose by his dress, whom I met after I had crossed the
river Hugli with her in a boat, told me that I had come too late, that
Madame Blavatsky had already seen the Mahatmas and that he had brought
her