All at once he heard a deep voice at the door which said, "In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost." "Amen," responded Ilya at once, and three wayfarers entered after bowing at the threshold. They were old and venerable, and Ilya knew them at once to be singers of holy psalms, who never lacked food and drink among the peasants whose lives they cheered. So, when they asked him for something to drink, he spoke gently to them, partly, however, because he feared the result of their displeasure. "Venerable masters," he said, "whatever is within the house is yours, but, to my sorrow, I cannot rise to wait upon you." Then the holy men looked steadily at him, and before their steadfast gaze Ilya's eyes fell in humility as before the Holy Cross; and as he looked downwards they said to him, "Arise and wash yourself, for you shall be able to walk and to wait upon us." Somehow, Ilya seemed to obey them in spite of himself. He got down from the stove and walked with the legs of a full-grown man of mighty stature. Then stretching out his brawny arms he took the cup, filled it with the drink of the rye, and offered it to the holy guests on bended knee. They took it from him, drank one after the other, and gave it to him again, saying, "Drink in your turn, Ilya." The young man obeyed without a word, and then awaited the further pleasure of the visitors. "Ilya, son of weakness," they said, "how is it with your strength?" "I thank you with reverence, venerable sirs," he replied, bowing low before them, "my strength is now such as could surely move the earth." The old men turned from him and regarded each other with a look of wisdom so pure and clear and like a shaft of brightest sunlight that Ilya's eyes sought the earthen floor of the cottage once again. Then one of the guests, who seemed to be the leader, said in a quiet voice of authority, "Give us to drink once more," and Ilya obeyed without question. "Drink now yourself, Ilya," they said, and he did so. "Ilya, son of weakness," they said, "how is it now with your strength?" "I thank you with reverence, venerable sirs," he said, "my strength is great, but only half the strength I had." "That is well," said the old men; "if it were greater, then moist Mother Earth would be too frail to bear you." Then the old men told Ilya to go out into the summer sunlight, and he walked out of the cottage for the first time, followed by his deliverers; and there, standing in the light, the young man received his blessing and his charge. "Ilya, son of strength," they said, "it is God Himself who has redeemed you from weakness. Therefore you are bound to defend the faith of Christ against all unbelievers, however bold and daring they may be, remembering always that it is not written that you should come to your death in battle.