At last, when the missionary was
ready to start for a distant mission, he learned that which proved so
destructive to his peace of mind. From Constantinople, his brother had
gone to Persia, where he was residing in easy circumstances; but,
ambitious of advancement, he had abjured the faith of his fathers and
become a follower of Mahommed.
It was a melancholy intelligence, and many were the tears of the good
monk. The first year of his arrival at Hurdwar, he met with a Jewish
merchant who had accompanied a Persian caravan. That man knew his
brother, the renegade, and informed the Padre that his brother had
fallen into disgrace, and as a punishment of his apostacy, was now
leading a life of privation and misery.
Deep and fervent were now the monk's prayers to heaven; he implored
forgiveness for his brother, and offered penance for him. Poor man! he
thought if he could but see him and talk to him, he would redeem him
from his apostacy; but, alas! his duty was in Hurdwar, he was bound
there and could not move. One day (it was during the fair) he had
wandered at a distance from the river, that he might not witness the
delusions of paganism, and his mind was intensely absorbed in prayer.
Anon, unusual sounds broke on his ears; sounds well known, sounds
reminding him of his country, of his beautiful Italy.
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