Martin went to the place appointed, fulfilled the command of John, and a third time saw the features of Poullkheria; she appeared to him with some especially magnificent heavenly radiance.
“But how shall I reproduce this astonishing light?” murmured the painter, and began to strictly observe the fasts and pray like the ancient prophets and other true servants of the Lord. For a whole week he constantly went through all the different religious services and ate nothing, nor did he drink anything. On Saturday, after partaking Communion, he took a meal and lay down with the intention of sleeping under the portrait.
In the dream he beheld already the heavenly Tsaritsa, viz., just as it was customary and necessary to reproduce her. Hastily he jumped up and drew out on the wall with charcoal the all glorious and all impressive picture. This was the very first representation of the kind, and it completely satisfied and pleased the artist himself! The worry which had long been weighing down on him was changed into inexpressible happiness and good fortune, and he hurried to the holy djouar (cross) where with tears he thanked and sang praises unto God. The following day just at sunrise Martin rose, awoke Poullkheria and led her off with him. Hardly had he arranged her as was his desire, when an unknown youth came up to them.
“Old man!” he said, respectfully bowing, “I also want to work on the image of the Heavenly Queen, instruct me how it is necessary to dispose of thy colors.” With great incredulity Martin stared at him. The gorgeous garment, the graceful movements showed plainly that he was a man not accustomed to hard labors. “It is not at all easy to teach how to apply the colors,” he answered. “Take off thy expensive and most elegant robe and thy delicate hands will not stand difficult, exhausting work.” The youth nevertheless insisted, and Martin having rapidly explained to him what to do, began the work and soon forgot him and Poullkheria and all creation, and was utterly absorbed in his magnificent inner world. In the meantime Poullkheria followed the newcomer. He was a tall, well-built, handsome youth, broad-shouldered with a slender waist, which was pinched in by a fine gold belt with decorations of highly precious stones, and how these various-colored stones played and shone and reflected! when he had placed it on a huge marble piece and he easily and quickly arranged on it a heavy stone, which her father moved from place to place—very slowly and only gradually. The youth did not pay the very least attention to her—he was evidently worried and pulled down by some outside event. Deep sighs from time to time came out of his breast, and in the end Poullkheria remarked that a tear fell unto the edge of the marble slab. It now really seemed as though he as well as Martin had wandered off into some unknown world and had forgotten everything earthly. Martin painted without interruption for seven hours; and in a like manner, without taking any rest, worked the sweet newcomer. Glancing at their indefatigable application, Poullkheria became frightened and feared that her posing might never come to an end, and so began to weep most bitterly. The features of her face suddenly assumed another look and thus her father began to be thoughtful and remember all that had taken place.
“Enough, my poor darling child!” he said with delicacy, and addressed the youth. Immense spots of paint and butter were now to be seen on various parts of his costly attire, his hair was indeed in the greatest disorder and his face red from exhaustion. Martin really did not know how he should thank and reward him.
“Tell me at least thy name, thou good youth!” he said, turning to the boy.
“Mirdat.”
“Why—is it possible?”
“Be silent!” interrupted the youth and went out, but Martin looked after him with inexpressible astonishment. Only in this moment did he recognize in him the Tsarevitch-successor, the great and famous victories of whom the whole East was talking. Yesterday only he had returned from a victorious expedition to Rome, and they were convinced that he would soon start out again. How was it possible that during these very few days of rest he wished to take upon himself such a tiresome and dry work? Afterwards he thoroughly inspected what he had achieved and was perfectly overcome by the number and variety of colors and shades arranged and used by him.
“If he accomplishes his new war as rapidly as the first, I shall have enough colors left up to the time of his return,” reflected Martin, and gayly and joyfully went home with his dear little daughter, who all along the route questioned him about Mirdat. Having dined in haste and slept a little, Martin once more continued his labors and was steadily busy until sunset.