The Calm Monotony Of A Life At Trooditissa Was Disturbed Every Now And Then At Distant Intervals By Trifling Events Which Only Served To Prove That Peculiar Characters Existed In The Otherwise Heavenly Atmosphere Which Showed Our Connection With The World Below.

One night a burglar attempted an entrance; but the man (who was a carpenter) having been previously suspected, was

Watched, and having been seen in the middle of the night to place a ladder against the outer gallery, by which he ascended, and with false keys opened a door that led to the store-room of the monastery, he was suddenly pounced upon by two strong young priests and fairly captured. On the following morning the monks applied to me, and as usual I vainly pleaded my unofficial position. I was either to do or to say something. If the man was sent to Limasol, thirty-five miles distant, the monks would have the trouble and expense of appearing as prosecutors; the robber would be imprisoned for perhaps a couple of years, during which his family would starve. I could offer no advice. I simply told them that if any robber should attempt to enter my tent I should not send him to Limasol, but I should endeavour to make the tent so disagreeable to him that he would never be tempted to revisit the premises from the attraction of pleasing associations. I explained to the monks that although a severe thrashing with stout mulberry sticks would, if laid on by two stout fellows, have a most beneficial effect upon the burglar, and save all the trouble of a reference to Limasol, at the same time that the innocent wife and family would not be thrown upon their relatives, they must not accept my views of punishment as any suggestion under the present circumstances.

About half an hour after this conversation I heard a sound of well-inflicted blows, accompanied by cries which certainly denoted a disagreeable physical sensation, within the courtyard of the monastery, and to my astonishment I found that my interpreter and willing cook Christo had volunteered as one of the executioners, and the burglar, having been severely thrashed, was turned out of the monastery and thrust down the path towards the depths of Phyni. Christo was a very good fellow, and he sometimes reminded me of a terrier ready to obey or take a hint from his master upon any active subject, while at others, in his calmer moments, he resembled King Henry's knights, who interpreted their monarch's wishes respecting Thomas a-Becket.

On 6th June we had been somewhat startled by the sudden appearance in the afternoon of a man perfectly naked, who marched down the approach from the spring and entered the monastery-yard in a dignified and stage-like attitude as though he had the sole right of entree. At first sight I thought he was mad, but on reference to the monks I discovered he was perfectly sane. It appeared that he was a Greek about forty-five years of age, who was a native of Kyrenia, and for some offence twenty years ago he had been ordered by the priests to do penance in this extraordinary manner.

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