The men of Tula, clever fellows and well versed in the art of metals, are also renowned as the finest judges in religious matters. Their fame in this respect has filled not only their native land, but even holy Mount Athos. They are not only experts at singing from the obscure ancient notes, but they also know how the holy picture of "the evening chime" should be painted; and if any one of them dedicates himself to the great service and enters the monastic life, such men have the reputation of making the best Monastery stewards, and they turn out the most capable collectors. It is well known on holy Mount Athos that the men of Tula are a most profitable race, and were it not for them, many remote corners of Russia would, assuredly, never have beheld very many of the sacred things of the Far East, and Athos would have been deprived of many useful contributions from Russian bounty and piety.

Nowadays the "Athos Tulans" carry about sacred things throughout the whole of our native land, and collect contributions in the most masterly manner, even in places where there is nothing to be got. The Tula man is full of ecclesiastical piety, and very knowing in that line; therefore those three workmen who had undertaken to uphold Platoff, and with him all Russia, committed no error in directing their course not Moscow-wards but towards the South.

They were bound not for Kieff, but for Mtzensk, a county town in the Government of Oryol, in which stands the ancient "stone-carved" holy image of Saint Nikolai, which had floated thither, in the most remote times, upon a great cross, also of stone, down the river Zusha. This is a holy image "of menacing and most terrible aspect,"—the Prelate of Myra-in-Lycia is therein depicted "full-length," all clad in vestments of silver brocade, but dark of countenance; and in one hand he holds a temple, in the other a sword—"symbolizing conquest." And precisely in this "conquest" lies the whole gist of the matter. Saint Nikolai is the Patron of mercantile and military matters in general, but the "Nikolai of Mtzensk" is so in particular, and to him the men of Tula hied them to pay their reverence. They caused a service of prayer to be celebrated before the holy image itself, and then before the stone cross, and at last they returned home, "by night," and telling no one anything about it, they set to work with direful secrecy.

All three assembled in a small house belonging to the left-handed man, locked the door, closed the shutters over the windows, lighted the sacred lamp before the holy picture of Nikolai, and set to work.

One day, two days, three days they sat, and went out nowhere, but kept tapping away with their little hammers. They were forging something—but what they were forging, no one knew.

Every one was curious, but no one could find out, because the workers said nothing and did not show themselves out of doors. Divers persons went to the cottage, and knocked at the door, under various pretexts, to ask for fire or salt; but the three artist-smiths unbolted for no questions, and it was not even known on what food they subsisted. An attempt was made to frighten them, and they were told that a house in the vicinity was on fire—to see whether they would not run out in their alarm, and then it would be revealed what they had forged; but no one could entrap these cunning artisans. On that occasion only the left-handed man did thrust himself out to the extent of his shoulders, and shout: "Burn by yourselves, but we have no time!"—and thereupon he hid his plucked pate again, clapped the shutter to, and proceeded with his business.

Only, it could be seen through tiny cracks, that a small fire was glowing in the house, and the delicate little hammers could be heard tapping away on the resonant anvils.

In a word, the whole affair was conducted with such fearful secrecy that it was impossible to find out anything at all, and, moreover, this continued up to the very moment of Cossack Platoff's return from the quiet Don to the Emperor; and during all that time these artisans saw no one and talked with no one.