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 the monk applied refused him, saying that there were already churches enough."

Father Arsenius' face, as he spoke, was no longer holy. He looked a Greek, boiling for a fight. Gradually his features regained their calm and he smiled at me, as he continued:

"That night St George came to the monk in his dreams and bade him start building without permission of the Turks. In the morning the monk climbed the mountain, and with the help of two other monks began his work. Ah! but I should like to have been that monk," Father Arsenius cried—but he would not permit his soul even the envy of a holy deed, and humbly added: "Thy will be done, saint."

"Didn't the Turks interfere any more?" I asked.

"Yes, they did, my little one. While the work was in progress they heard of it, and sent word to the monk to stop it. He replied that he obeyed higher orders than theirs. The pasha was furious, and set out himself for the island, swearing he would hang the monk from his own scaffolding.

"But he reckoned without St George. At that time there were no roads on the island, not even a path leading up here. The pasha and his followers became lost in the woods, and had to spend the night, hungry and thirsty, under the pine trees. In the middle of the night the pasha woke up, struggling in the grip of St George. He