better path to the
river.

Presently Timar was back again with Euthemio and Timea, and now a young
girl appeared, whom the housewife called Noemi.

Before supper was over, the growling of the dog announced a new arrival,
and a man of youthful appearance, who introduced himself as Theodor
Krisstyan, an old friend of the lady of the house, whom he called Madame
Therese, entered and made himself quickly at home. It was plain that his
hostess both feared and disliked Theodor, while Timar, who had met him
before, regarded him as a spy in the pay of the Turkish government.

In the morning the wind had gone down, Theodor had vanished, and Timar
and his passengers prepared to renew their journey.

Therese told Timar her story before he left; how she and her daughter
Noemi had lived there for twelve years, and who the objectionable
Theodor was. Then she added, in a whisper, "I fancy this man Krisstyan's
visit was either on your account, or that of the other gentleman. Be on
your guard if either of you dread the discovery of a secret."

Trikaliss looked very gloomy when he heard the stranger had left before
sunrise, and the following night he called Timar to his cabin.

"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 car