فصل پانزدهم

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In which the young man

and the old man embark

on different journeys

THE YOUNG MAN WAS NOT ALONE FOR LONG. The butler appeared, holding an envelope. He handed it to the young man and said, “My master en-trusted me with the task of giving this to you. He said you should read it in the privacy of your room. You may spend another day here. Then you must go. These are my master’s wishes.” The young man thanked him and went immediately to his room. This time, however, he took the precaution of leaving the door slightly open. . . .

The envelope was sealed with red wax in the shape of a rose. The young man sat on the edge of the bed and carefully broke the seal. A delicate scent of roses wafted from it. He pulled out the Instant Millionaire’s will.

This extraordinary testament was handwritten in ample, majestic letters that seemed to breathe as if imbued with their own life. A beautifully handwritten letter accompanied it, written in black ink.

“These are my last requests,” he read. “I am leaving you all the books in my library. Some people Believe that books are utterly worthless. They believe that they themselves are reinventing the world. And since they have not benefited from the knowledge found in books, they unfortunately repeat the mistakes made by their forefathers. In this way, they waste a lot of time and a lot of money.

“On the other hand, don’t fall into the trap of trusting implicitly in what books contain, letting those who came before you do your thinking for you. Retain only what outlasts the passage of time.

“Since our first encounter, I have tried to convey to you the pearls of wisdom I have been able to glean during my long life. In this document you will find a few thoughts that represent my spiritual legacy. I would like you to do your best to communicate them to as many people as you can. Tell people about our encounter and the secrets you have learned. Before doing so, however, you must try them out. A method that has not been tested and proven in your own experience is completely worthless.

“Within six years you will be a millionaire. At that time you will be free to undertake the steps necessary to share this legacy with people.

“Now I must leave you. My roses are waiting.”

The young man was choked with emotion, and sat for a moment in silence.

He wanted to thank the millionaire for having given him such precious gifts. He went quickly back to the dining room, but found no one. He called out to the butler, but there was no answer.

He ran out to the garden and spotted the millionaire lying in the middle of a path at the foot of a rose bush.

“How eccentric,” thought the young man, “sleeping in the middle of a garden.” But the nearer he drew, the more troubled he became.

The old man’s hands were folded upon his chest, and he held a single rose. His face was perfectly serene.

Had he known the exact moment he was going to die? Had he chosen the moment of his departure, and simply willed himself to die?

It was one secret the millionaire had taken with him.

The young man sensed it was time for him, too, to leave. He reached to take the rose, but then pulled his hand away. That rose belonged to the Instant Millionaire. It was his final companion.

He stood over the millionaire and vowed to convey his teachings as best he could, then started down the path to return home.

When the millionaire’s library was delivered to his apartment, it was so immense it left little room for the rest of his things. He was confronted with a dilemma: either move elsewhere or get rid of some of the books. He chose to move. And he did it with a light heart.