On one occasion she wished to save a young man from death who had, for some time, been in Trifon’s service. He had been brought to Trifon in bonds by his comrades, who charged him with meditating treason. There was no doubt of his intended guilt, and he was condemned to death. But just as Trifon was in the act of striking the death-blow Ellen threw herself in front of him so as to shield the young man. Trifon’s jealousy was so inflamed at this, and he was so maddened at her conduct, and with the strong drink which he had too freely taken, that he struck such a desperate blow at his beloved one as to cleave open her beautiful pale brow, and she fell forward, with her outstretched arms covered with blood, and soon lay dead at his feet. Trifon, appalled at what he had done, drew back a little, and gazed speechlessly at her, while his companions also stood terror-stricken around him. Then he threw aside the blood-stained sword, clasped his hands before his face, and threw himself with a wild shriek of despair on the dead body. After a time he raised himself up, and found that he was alone; but he was a changed man. He at once left the band of brigands and sought for solitude, hiding himself away from the haunts of men in lonely forests and desolate places. For a long time he would not look another person in the face, for there was constantly before his eyes, whether he was sleeping or waking, the vision of Ellen with her blood-stained, cloven brow. He had loved the woman, who, though rich and of good birth, had forsaken all on his account. Compunction and remorse so preyed upon him that he appeared like a living corpse. And the more his body wasted away, the wilder became his illusions and dreams. One night he dreamt that Ellen was standing in the broad daylight, alive, before him, with the gaping wound in her brow, from which the blood, drop by drop, was trickling down her face, and she seemed to say distinctly to him: ‘Trifon, Trifon! you will never have peace or repose, either in life or in death, until you do penance. Do penance! Do penance!’ ‘What am I to do?’ Trifon inquired ‘You are to go to a barren and inaccessible land, and preach the Gospel to the poor,’ she replied. From that time he began to undergo further and greater hardships. He took a vow that he would never more taste ‘any drink brewed from hops,’ neither eat any flesh meat, but ‘subsist only on fish and the kindly fruits of the earth.’ He girded his loins with a common thong, in place of the costly sword-belt which he had before worn, and he never afterwards wore any linen next his skin.