Gyuri sighed.
"If I have to dig it out of the ground with my ten fingers, I will do it."
"Perhaps Matykó will remember something about it?"
Matykó was soon found; he sat smoking his pipe in the anteroom of the office, for he was now Gyuri's servant. But he also said he had forgotten far more important things than that in all these years; but this much he did remember, that the dead man had kept the umbrella near him till the hour of his death.
"Heaven only knows," he added, "why he took such care of the ragged old thing."
(Not only heaven knew the reason now, but Gyuri too!)
He got more information from the old woman who kept the grocer's shop in old Gregorics's house; she had been in the house when he died, and had helped to lay him out. She swore by heaven and earth that the umbrella had been tightly clutched in the dead man's hand, and they had had the greatest difficulty in freeing it from his grasp.
"Yes," said the old woman, "the umbrella was certainly in his hand, may I never move from this spot if it is not true."
"It is all the same," muttered Gyuri; "we want to know where it is now."
"I suppose it was sold with the rest of the things."