It happened in this wise.

The professor was not an expert swimmer, but he could keep above water, and was particularly fond of floating.  One summer day as he lay on the surface of the tepid sea quite unconcernedly, the sense of comfort led to a slight somnolence.  All at once he felt the water heaving under him as if suddenly parted by some heavy body, and then seething against his person.  In an instant he thought of a shark, and turned quickly to swim away from the monster; but whether from hurry, fright, or his own weight, he lost his balance and sank heavily.  While all this happened quick as a flash, the moments seemed like centuries to him, and his imagination, excited by the sudden rush of blood to the head, worked so swiftly, that, as the professor said afterwards, if he should try to set down everything that came into his mind then, it would make a good-sized book.  Scenes of his childhood, incidents of his youth, the faces of his favorite pupils since the beginning of his career as a teacher, the death of his mother, the breakfast he had eaten that morning,—­all passed before him in quick succession, and mingled together without becoming confused; while as a musical accompaniment, there kept sounding in his ears the verse of Valaoritis in “The Bell”: 

“Ding-dong!  The bell!”

The night before poor Mr. Plateas had been reading “The Bell” of the poet of Leucadia,—­that pathetic picture of the enamored young sailor, who, on returning to his village, throws himself into the sea to reach more speedily the shore, where he hears the tolling knell and sees the funeral procession of his beloved, and as he buffets the waves is devoured by the monster of the deep.  The poetical description of this catastrophe had so affected him that he afterwards attributed his misadventure to the influence of the poet’s verses.  If he had not read “The Bell” that night, he would not have mistaken for a shark the urchin that swam under him, for it was not the first time that mischievous boys had amused themselves by plunging under the professor’s broad shoulders; but he had never been frightened before, while to-day this poetic recollection nearly cost him his life.

Fortunately Mr. Liakos was taking his bath near by, and when he saw the professor disappear in that extraordinary fashion, and the circles widening on the surface, he at once understood what had happened.  Swimming rapidly to the spot, he dived down, managed to grasp the drowning man, dragged him to the surface, and brought him ashore unconscious.  Thanks to these prompt measures, Mr. Plateas came to himself,—­with great difficulty, it is true, but he finally did come to himself; and there on the shore of the sea he made a double vow:  never again to go into the water, and never to forget that he owed his life to Mr. Liakos.