AN EXCELLENT JOKE.
In the morning when Timea awoke she felt no more of her illness; the
strength of youth had won the victory. She dressed and came out of the
cabin. When she saw Timar forward she went to him and asked, "Where is
my father?"
"Fraulein, your father is dead."
Timea gazed at him with her great melancholy eyes; her face could hardly
become paler than it was already. "And where have they put him?"
"Fraulein, your father rests at the bottom of the Danube."
Timea sat down by the bulwarks and looked silently into the water. She
did not speak or weep; she only looked fixedly into the river.
Timar thought it would lighten her heart if he spoke words of
consolation to her. "Fraulein, while you were ill and unconscious, God
called your father suddenly to himself. I was beside him in his last
hour. He spoke of you, and commissioned me to give you his last
blessing. By his wish I am to take you to an old friend of his, with
whom you are connected through your mother, who will adopt you and be a
father to you. He has a pretty young daughter, a little older than you,
who will be your sister. And all that is on board this vessel belongs to
you by inheritance, left to you by your father. You will be rich; and
think gratefully of the loving father who has cared for you so kindly."
Timar's throat swelled as he thought, "And who died to secure your
liberty, and killed himself in order to endow you with the joys of
life."
And then he looked with surprise into the girl's face. Timea had not
changed a feature while he spoke, and no tear had fallen. Michael
thought she was ashamed to cry before a stranger, and withdrew; but the
maiden did not weep even when alone. Curious! when she saw the white cat
drowned, how her tears flowed! and now, when told that her father lies
below the water, not a drop falls.
Perhaps those who break out in tears at some small emotion brood
silently over a deep grief?
It may be so. Timar had other things to do than to puzzle his head over
psychological problems. The towers of Pancsova began to rise in the
north, and down the stream came an imperial barge, straight for the "St.
Barbara," with eight armed Tschaikists, their captain, and a provost.
When they arrived they made fast to the side without waiting for
permission, and sprung on deck. The captain approached Timar, who was
waiting for him at the door of the cabin. "Are you in command of this
vessel?"
"At your service."
"On board this ship, under the false name of Euthemio Trikaliss, there
is a fugitive treasurer from Turkey--a pasha with stolen treasures."
"On board this vessel travels a Greek corn-merchant, of the name of
Euthemio Trikaliss, not with stolen treasures but with purchased grain.
The vessel was searched at Orsova, and here are the certificates. This
is the first; be so good as to read it, and see if all is not as I say.
I know nothing of any Turkish pasha."
"Where is he?"
"If he was a Greek, with Abraham; if a Turk, with Mohammed."
"What! is he dead, then?"
"Certainly he is. Here is the second paper, containing his will. He died
of dysentery."
The officer read the document, and threw side glances at Timea, who
still sat in the place where she had heard of her father's death. She
understood nothing; the language was strange to her.
"My six sailors and the steersman are witnesses of his death."
"Well, that is unlucky for him, but not for us; if he is dead he must be
buried. You will tell us where, and we shall have the body exhumed; we
have a man who can recognize it, and prove the identity of Trikaliss
with Ali Tschorbadschi, and then we can at any rate lay an embargo on
the stolen property. Where is he buried?"
"At the bottom of the Danube."
"Oh! this is too much. Why there?"
"Gently now. Here is the third paper, prepared by the Dean of
Plesscovacz, in whose parish the decease of Trikaliss took place, and
who not only refused him a consecrated burial, but forbid me to bring
the body ashore; the people insisted on our throwing it overboard."
The captain clinched his hand angrily on the hilt of his sword. "The
devil! these confounded priests! Always the most trouble with them. But
at any rate you can tell me where he was thrown into the river?"
"Let me tell you everything in proper order, Herr Captain. The
Plesscovaer sent four watchmen on board, who were to prevent our landing
the corpse; in the night, when we were all asleep, they threw the
coffin, which they had loaded with stones, into the Danube without the
knowledge of the crew. Here is the certificate delivered to me by the
culprits; take it, search them out, take their evidence, and then let
each have his well-merited punishment."
The captain stamped with his foot, and burst into angry laughter.
"Well, that is a fine story. The discovered fugitive dies, and can not
be made responsible; the priest won't bury him, the peasants shove him
into the water, and hand in a certificate signed with two names which no
man ever possessed, and two places which never existed in this world.
The refugee disappears under the water of the Danube, and I can neither
drag the whole Danube from Pancsova to Szendre, nor get hold of the two
rogues, by name Karakassalovics and Stiriapicz. If the identity of the
fugitive is not proved, I can not confiscate the cargo. You have done
that very cleverly, skipper. Cleverly planned indeed! And everything in
writing. One, two, three, four documents. I bet if I wanted the
baptismal certificate of that lady there, you would produce it."
"At your orders." That Timar certainly could not produce, but he could
put on such an innocent, sheepish face, that the captain shook with
laughter and clapped him on the shoulder.
"You are a splendid fellow, skipper. You have saved the young lady's
property for her; for without her father I can do nothing to either her
or her money. You can proceed, you clever fellow!"
With that he turned on his heel, and the last Tschaikiss, who had not
swung round quick enough, got such a box on the ear that the poor devil
all but fell into the water; and then he gave the word for departure.
When he was down below in the boat, he cast one searching look back; but
the skipper was still looking after him with the same sheepish face.
The cargo of the "St. Barbara" was saved.