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At midnight Virat got up. He looked all-round. It was all silence. All were asleep; so was their leader. There was now no obstacle in his way out. He got up and ran towards the door.
He was a little hesitant. Was this not an adventure? If he is exposed, he must meet death. He shuddered for a while. When the Mahamantra becomes the defender all calamities are allayed. He chanted the Mahamantra. Adinath reigned in his heart. He marched on his thorny path. It was just midnight then.
If the person full of faith is true, if faith is true and if his Sadhana is ture, the Sadhaka no doubt conquers the highest peaks. Virat was standing just there. His object of faith was the Mahamantra; his faith in it was unshaken and his Sadhana was constant.
At midnight, he put on the garb of the Sardar and proceeded. He chanted the Mahamantra and tapped at the door. He had his existence all safe because the Mahamantra was the defender. The watchman at the door had no suspicion. He saluted him and did not obstruct him. Virat entered a vast open ground. On all sides it was all dark. Dim lights coming from somewhere were guiding his way.
The chanting of the Mahamantra in his heart was constant and with that as the rescuer he was treading on his path.
Now and then he had doubts. But the doubts were quelled. He told himself: "I am helpless no doubt; here I have no relatives or friends. But the Mahamantra is my defender. What fear could I have then? That is the prophet that leads me on and on, even though I know not
