He laid the box in the hole and covered it with earth before placing the stone over it.
"Be careful to make the stone lie quite flat," said Angelo, bending down and gathering his gown off the floor in a bunch at his knees. "If it does not lie flat, the stone will move when the boys tread on it, and they may think of taking it up."
"It is very heavy," answered the young man. "It was as much as I could do to heave it up. You need not be afraid of the boys."
"It is not a very safe place, I fear, after all," returned Beroviero doubtfully. "Be sure to leave no marks of the crowbar, and no loose earth near it."
The heavy slab slipped into its bed with a soft thud. Zorzi took the lamp and examined the edges. One of them was a little chipped by the crowbar, and he rubbed it with the greasy tow and scattered dust over it. Then he got a cypress broom and swept the earth carefully away into a heap. Beroviero himself brought the shovel and held it close to the stones while Zorzi pushed the loose earth upon it.
"Carry it out and scatter it in the garden," said the old man.
It was the first time that he had allowed his affection for Zorzi to express itself so strongly, for he was generally a very cautious person. He took the young man's hand and held it a moment, pressing it kindly.
"It was not I who made the law against strangers, and it was not meant for men like you," he added.
Zorzi knew how much this meant from such a master and he would have found words for thanks, had he been able; but when he tried, they would not come.
"You may trust me," was all he could say.