All this, however, did not suffice to divert my attention from Madame Blavatsky, whose striking personality, and the mystery surrounding her life, fascinated me.  Yet I did not approach her, but spent a pleasant evening apart with another new acquaintance, Madame Gebhard.  She was later to become a very dear friend, who entertained me with many stories of the “old lady”, as HPB was then familiarly called by her intimates.

In the autumn of 1885, I was making preparations to leave my home in Sweden to spend the winter with some friends in Italy, and incidentally en route to pay Madame Gebhard a promised visit at her residence in Elberfeld, Germany.

… At last the day came for me to leave Sweden, in October, 1885.  I arrived at Elberfeld, where I met with a cordial and affectionate greeting from Madame Gebhard.  The warmth of heart and steadfast friendship of this excellent woman were for years a source of comfort and support to me, as they were also to Madame Blavatsky.  My affection and admiration for her increased as I became better acquainted with the true and noble character which gradually unfolded itself before me.

   It appeared that Madame Blavatsky and a party of Theosophists had spent some eight weeks with Madame Gebhard the autumn of 1884, and she had many things to tell me of the interesting incidents that occurred during that time.  Thus I reentered the sphere of influence which had made so deep an impression upon me at Enghien, and felt all my interest in, and enthusiasm for, HPB revived.

   However, the time was drawing near for me to pass on to Italy.  My friends never ceased pressing me to join them there, and at last the date of my departure was fixed.

   When I told Madame Gebhard that I must leave her in a few days, she mentioned a letter she had received from HPB in which she deplored her loneliness.  She was ill in body and depressed in mind.  Her sole companions were her servant and an Indian gentleman who had accompanied her from Bombay, of whom I shall have to say a word later.  “Go to her,” said Madame Gebhard, “she needs sympathy, and you can cheer her up.  For me it is impossible, I have my duties, but you can befriend her if you will.”

   I thought the matter over.  Certainly, it was possible for me to comply with the request only at the risk of disappointing my friends in Italy, but their plans would not be greatly disarranged.  I decided at last that if HPB desired my company, I would go to her for a month before starting for the south.  Thus, as she had predicted, and within the period she named, circumstances seemed to be drawing me back to her.

   Madame Gebhard was genuinely pleased when I informed her of my decision and showed her a letter I had written to the “old lady” in Würzburg suggesting that if she cared to receive me I would spend a few weeks with her, as Madame Gebhard had said she was in need of care and companionship.  The letter was dispatched, and we waited eagerly for the reply.  When at last the reply came there was much excitement with regard to its contents.  The anticipation soon turned into consternation on Madame Gebhard’s part and disappointment on mine, when we found nothing more than a polite refusal beneath the seal – Madame Blavatsky was sorry, but she had no room for me; besides, she was so occupied in writing her Secret Doctrine that she had no time to entertain visitors, but hoped we might meet on my return from Italy.  The tone was civil enough, and even amiable, but the intention seemed to convey to me unmistakably that I was not wanted.

   Madame Gebhard looked gloomy as I read the letter aloud.  To her, evidently, it was incomprehensible.  As for me after the initial disappointment at the news, I set my eyes hopefully on my journey southward.

   My luggage was soon ready, and a cab was actually waiting for me at the door when a telegram was put into my hands containing these words, “Come to Würzburg at once, wanted immediately – Blavatsky.”

   It may easily be imagined that this message took me by surprise, and in complete amazement I turned to Madame Gebhard for an explanation.  But she was frankly delighted and radiant.  Evidently all her thoughts, all her sympathies, were with her “old lady”.  “Oh, she does want you, you see, after all,” she cried.  “Go to her, go.”

   It was at Adyar one day that an Indian, begrimed with dirt, clad in tattered garments, and with a miserable expression of countenance, made his way into Madame Blavatsky’s presence.  He cast himself at her feet and with tears in his voice and eyes entreated her to save him.  On enquiry it appeared that in a mood of religious exaltation he had wandered away into the jungle with the intention of renouncing society, becoming a “forest-dweller”, and devoting himself to religious contemplation and yoga practices.  There he had joined a yogi who was willing to accept him as his chela or pupil, and had spent some time in the study of the difficult system of Hatha Yoga, a system which relies almost exclusively oh Physiological processes for the development of psychic powers.

   At last, overcome by terror at his experiences, and the formidable training he had to undergo, he made his escape from his guru.  By what circumstances he was led to HPB we don’t know, but he reached her, and she comforted him and calmed his mind, clothed and fed him, and then, at his request, began to teach him the truly spiritual path of development, the Raja Yoga philosophy.  In return he vowed a life-long devotion, and when she left India for Europe he persuaded her to bring him with her.

   He was a little man, of nervous temperament, with bright beady eyes.  During the first few days that I spent at Würzburg he was for ever talking to me, translating stories from his Tamil books, and relating all sorts of wonderful adventures that had happened to him when he was in the forest with his Hatha Yoga master.  But he did not remain long in Würzburg.  Madame Gebhard sent him a cordial invitation to pay her a visit at Elberfeld, and so one morning, after an effusive scene of leave-taking with HPB, during which he declared she had been more than a mother to him, that the days he had spent with her had been the happiest of his life, he departed – I regret to say never to return.  Too soon flattery turned his head and his heart, and the poor little man was false to all that should have been most sacred to him.