“Dearest Princess, pardon me, but what will Dr Simovics say? He ordered you complete rest from anything that might try the nerves, and you have no idea of the strain of sitting for a portrait. If you like, I can send and ask his advice, but I fear I know what his answer will be.”
“So do I,” said Eirene resentfully. “This means that I must give up my portrait, then. But I must have a picture of yours,” turning to Armitage. “I wonder”—she took up some of the sketches—“whether you would object to try a view of Hadgi-Antoniou from my description merely? I like the pictures of the Morean monasteries extremely, but as I have never seen them they do not appeal to me as Hadgi-Antoniou does.”
“I will try my best, ma’am; but I fear the picture would not be very satisfactory. If you could give me just a rough sketch of your own——?”
“Unfortunately I can’t draw at all. But I suppose I could show you roughly what it is like. I should like a picture of the church, but I know it would be hopeless for me to try to do that. The view must be from the ground below. Now you must not laugh at my crude efforts,” as Armitage supplied her with a pencil and an unused sheet of paper. “The rock goes up, up, nearly straight, like this, and the monastery is at the very top, hanging over in some places. This is the rope and net by which visitors are drawn up. These things which look like caterpillars on the face of the rock are ladders. The monks must have some more to bridge the gaps, but I never saw them in use, and I don’t know where they keep them. Here at the edge of the summit are the monks’ gardens. Don’t expect me to draw bushes as you do.” She was scribbling with intense energy, and Armitage, looking over her, read—
“They are here—Z. in pilgrims’ rooms, M. in underground dungeon. Monks are divided into two parties, Greek and Thracian. Hegoumenos and Greeks friendly but timid. Thracians under Scythian orders. Greeks will yield to definite order from Œcumenical Patriarch for release of prisoners. Be prepared to bribe Thracians heavily, and to threaten, or even use, force. Be secret, or prisoners may be removed.”
“This is an overhanging forest, ma’am, I presume?” asked Armitage. Eirene laughed consciously.
“Oh no, only bushes, and in some places grass.”
“Then—pardon me—I think, perhaps, this kind of touch would express it better.” He took the pencil, and wrote—
“Are you in danger? Can we help you first?”
“I think I shall get you to give me some drawing lessons,” said Eirene admiringly. “Is this it?” and she wrote—