Timar's Two Worlds. Mór Jókai

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СКАЧАТЬ and killed himself in order to endow you with the joys of life."

      And then he looked with surprise into the girl's face. Timéa 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 Timéa, 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.

CHAPTER XIII.

       THE FATE OF THE "ST. BARBARA."

       Table of Contents

      The "St. Barbara" could now pursue her way unmolested; and Timar had no worse misfortunes than the daily disputes with the leader of the towing-team. On the great Hungarian plains the voyage up the Danube becomes extremely wearisome; there are no rocks, no water-falls or old ruins, nothing but willows and poplars, which border both sides of the river. Of these there is nothing interesting to relate.

      Timéa frequently did not come out of her cabin during a whole day, and not a word did her lips utter. She sat alone, and often the food they set before her was brought out again untouched. The days grew shorter, and the bright autumn weather turned to rain; Timéa now shut herself entirely into her cabin, and Michael heard nothing of her except the deep sighs which at night penetrated to his ear through the thin partition. But she was never heard to weep; the heavy blow which had fallen on her had perhaps covered her heart with an impenetrable layer of ice. How glowing must that love be which could melt it!

      Ah, my poor friend, how came you by that thought? Why do you dream waking and sleeping of this pale face? Even if she were not so beautiful, she is so rich, and you are only a poor devil of a fellow. What is the good of a pauper like you filling all his thoughts with the image of such a rich girl? If only it were the other way, and you were the rich one and she poor! And how rich is Timéa? Timar began to reckon, in order to drive himself to despair, and turn these idle dreams out of his head. Her father left her a thousand ducats in gold and the cargo, which, according to the present market prices, must be worth, say, ten thousand ducats—perhaps she has ornaments and jewels besides—and might be counted in Austrian paper-money of that date as worth a hundred thousand gulden; that in a Hungarian provincial town is a very rich heiress. And then Timar asked himself a riddle whose solution he could not guess.

      If Ali Tschorbadschi had a fortune of eleven thousand ducats, that would not weigh more than sixteen pounds; of all metals, gold has the smallest volume in proportion to its weight. Sixteen pounds of ducats could be packed in a knapsack, which a man could carry on his back a long way, even on foot. Why was the Turk obliged to change it into grain and load a cargo-ship with it, which would take a month and a half for its voyage, and have to struggle with storms, eddies, rocks, and shallows—which might be delayed by quarantine and custom-houses—when he could have carried his treasure with СКАЧАТЬ