“I am dying,” he said.  “I want to die—­I have taken poison.  Timea will not wake till all is over.  My true name is not Euthemio Trikaliss, but Ali Tschorbadschi.  I was once governor of Candia, and then treasurer in Stamboul.  You know there is a revolution proceeding in Turkey; my turn was coming.  Not that I was a conspirator, but the treasury wanted my money and the seraglio my daughter.  Death is easy for me, but I will not let my daughter go into the harem nor myself be made a beggar.  Therefore I hired your vessel, and loaded it with grain.  The owner, Athanas Brazovics, is a connection of mine; I have often shown him kindness, he can return it now.  By a miracle we got safely through the rocks and whirlpools of the river, and eluded the pursuit of the Turkish brigantine, and now I stumble over a straw into my grave.

“That man who followed us last evening was a spy of the Turkish government.  He recognised me, and sealed my fate.  The government would not demand me from Austria as a political refugee, but as a thief.  This is unjust, for what I took was my own.  But I am pursued as a thief, and Austria gives up escaped thieves if Turkish spies can trace them.  By dying I can save my daughter and her property.  Swear to me by your faith and your honour you will carry out my instructions.  Here in this casket is about a thousand ducats.  Take Timea to Athanas Brazovics, and beg him to adopt my daughter.  Give him the money, he must spend it on the education of the child, and give him also the cargo, and beg him to be present when the sacks are emptied.  You understand?”

The dying man looked in Timar’s face, and struggled for breath.  “Yes—­the Red Crescent!” he stammered.  “The Red Crescent!” Then the death-throes closed his lips—­one struggle, and he was a corpse.

II.—­Timor Tempted and Fallen

When the St. Barbara had nearly reached Komorn it struck an uprooted tree, lying in ambush under water, and immediately began to sink.  It is absolutely impossible to save a vessel wrecked in this way.  The crew all left the sinking craft, and Timar rescued Timea, and with her the casket with the thousand ducats.

Then the captain drove off with the fatherless girl to the house of Athanas Brazovics in the town of Komorn.

At first Athanas kissed Timea very heartily, but when he learnt that his vessel was lost, and all Timea’s property, except the thousand ducats, and the wheat sacks—­now spoilt by water—­he altered his tune.

He and his wife Sophie decided that Timea should live with them as an adopted child, and at the same time attend on their daughter Athalie as a waiting-maid.  Athalie and her mother treated the poor girl with scornful contempt.

As for Timar, Athanas turned on him savagely, as though the captain could have prevented the wreck!

On the advice of his friend, Lieutenant Katschuka, who was betrothed to Athalie, Timar purchased the sunken grain next day when it was put up for auction, buying the whole cargo for 10,000 gulden.  “You will do the poor orphan a good turn if you buy it,” said the lieutenant.  “Otherwise, the value of the cargo will all go in salvage.”