“Yes, in Capetan Thanassi’s caique.”
“You are from Athens?”
“Oh, no; from the island. I was only serving in the town.”
The man put his hand under Mattina’s chin, turned her face up, and took a long look at her.
“If you are not Aristoteli’s daughter, may they never call me Petro again.”
Mattina stared in wonderment. How came this well-dressed stranger to know her?
“Yes; I am Aristoteli Dorri’s the sponge diver’s.”
“God rest his soul,” added the man, “and your mother’s also! Little did I think to return to the island and find them both under the soil. And when I looked for you, they told me you had gone to serve in the town! How did this good thing happen that you should just have come back today? Now I need not take the steamer for Athens to go and search for you.”
“For me?”