The man, who had by this time taken off both his boots and his jacket, now sprang into the water like a frog, and began to swim after the umbrella, the old boatman shouting after him:
"You're a fool, Jankó; come back, don't exert yourself for nothing."
Gregorics, afraid the warning would take effect, flew at the old man and seized hold of his tie.
"Hold your tongue or I'll murder you. Do you want to ruin me?"
"Well, what would that matter? Do you want to throttle me? Leave go of my neck-tie."
"Well, let the boy go after my umbrella."
"After all, what is the hen good for if not to look after the chickens?" muttered the old boatman. "The current just here is very strong, and he won't be able to reach the umbrella. And what's the good of it, when it will come back of itself when the tide turns in half an hour's time, to the other side of the 'Yellow.' In half an hour the fishermen will spread their nets, and the gentleman's umbrella will be sure to be caught in them; even if a big fish swallows it we can cut it open."
And as the old fisherman had said, so it came to pass; the umbrella was caught in one of the fishing nets, and great was the joy of old Gregorics when he once more held his treasure in his hand. He willingly paid the young fisherman the promised one hundred florins, though it was not really he who had brought the umbrella back; and in addition he rewarded the fishermen handsomely, who, the next day, spread the tale through the whole town of the old madman, who had given one hundred florins for the recovery of an old torn red umbrella. They had never before caught such a big fish in the Tisza.
"Perhaps the handle of the umbrella was of gold?"
"Not a bit of it; it was only of wood."