The grave-digger scratched his ear and replied, yawning: “Well, the cross—I have already burned it up.”
“Burned it? and why have you burned it?”
“Because the head priest so ordered.”
“Who is the head priest?” asked Ibarra.
“Who? The one who does the whipping.”
Ibarra put his hand to his head.
“But you can at least tell us where the grave is? You ought to remember.”
The grave-digger smiled. “The body is no longer there,” he replied tranquilly.
“What do you say?”
“Yes, no longer,” the man added in a joking tone. “Only a week ago I buried a woman in its place.”