Timar's Two Worlds. Mór Jókai
the girl, when they had already gone some distance.
"Here it is," answered Timéa, showing him what she had brought away.
"Miserable girl! that is the box of sweetmeats, not the casket." In fact, Timéa had brought the box of Turkish sweets, meant as a present to her new sister, and had totally forgotten the casket which held her whole fortune. That was left behind in the submerged cabin. "Back to the ship!" Timar cried to the pilot.
"Surely nobody has got such a mad notion as to look for anything in a sunken ship," grumbled Fabula.
"Back!—no words—I insist!"
The boat returned to the vessel. Timar asked no one's help, but sprung himself to the deck and down the steps to the cabin.
Timéa looked after him with her great dark eyes as he vanished under the surface, as if to say—"And you too go before me into the watery grave."
Timar reached the bulwarks, but had to be very careful, because the vessel had a list toward the side where Timéa's cabin door was. He had to hold on by the timbers of the roof, so as not to slip altogether under water. He found the door, luckily, not shut by the waves; for it would have been a long job to get it open. It was quite dark inside, the water had filled it almost to the ceiling; he groped to the table, the casket was not there; perhaps she had left it on the bed. The water had floated the bed to the roof, and he had to draw it down; but the casket was not there either. Perhaps it had been knocked over by the rush of water. He felt about vainly with his hands, stooping under water. His feet were more fortunate, for he stumbled over the object sought for; the casket had fallen to the ground. He lifted it, and tried while holding it to climb up to the other side, where he need not hold on with both hands.
The minute that Timar was under water seemed to Timéa an eternity.
He was a full minute under water. He had held his breath the whole time, as if to try an experiment how long a man could do without breathing.
When Michael's head appeared above the water she heaved a deep sigh, and her face beamed when Timar gave her the rescued casket, but not on its account.
"Well, captain!" exclaimed the steersman, as he helped Timar into the boat, "that's thrice you've got soaked for the love of these eyebrows. Thrice!"
Timéa asked Michael in a whisper, "What is the Greek for the word thrice?" Michael translated it. Then Timéa looked at him long, and repeated to herself in a low voice "Thrice."
The boat approached the shore in the direction of Almas.
Against the steely mirror in the twilight a long line was visible, like a distressful note of exclamation or a pause in life. It was the topmast of the "St. Barbara."
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