The cemetery began to fill with men and women in mourning. Some of them came for a moment to the open grave, discussed some matter, seemed not to be agreed, and separated, kneeling here and there. Others were lighting candles; all began to pray devoutly. One heard sighing and sobs, and over all a confused murmur of “requiem æternam.”
A little old man, with piercing eyes, entered uncovered. At sight of him some laughed, others frowned. The old man seemed to take no account of this. He went to the heap of skulls, knelt, and searched with his eyes. Then with the greatest care he lifted the skulls one by one, wrinkling his brows, shaking his head, and looking on all sides. At length he rose and approached the grave-digger.
“Ho!” said he.
The other raised his eyes.
“Did you see a beautiful skull, white as the inside of a cocoanut?”
The grave-digger shrugged his shoulders.
“Look,” said the old man, showing a piece of money; “it’s all I have, but I’ll give it to you if you find it.”
The gleam of silver made the man reflect. He looked toward the heap and said:
“It isn’t there? No? Then I don’t know where it is.”
“You don’t know? When those who owe me pay, I’ll give you more. ’Twas the skull of my wife, and if you find it——”