‘He dug a hole under the doorstep and placed it there,’ said she. And there was another pause.
By-and-by the Sodno asked again:
‘And where may my second brother’s money be?’
‘Don’t you know that either?’ cried the mother in surprise.
‘Oh, yes; I did once. But since I fell upon my head I can remember nothing.’
‘It is behind the oven,’ answered she. And again was silence.
‘Mother, dear mother,’ said the young man at last, ‘I am almost afraid to ask you; but I really have grown so stupid of late. Where did I hide my own money?’
But at this question the old woman flew into a passion, and vowed that if she could find a rod she would bring his memory back to him. Luckily, no rod was within her reach, and the Sodno managed, after a little, to coax her back into good humour, and at length she told him that the youngest Stalo had buried his treasure under the very place where she was sitting.
‘Dear mother,’ said Lyma, who had come in unseen, and was kneeling in front of the fire. ‘Dear mother, do you know who it is you have been talking with?’
The old woman started, but answered quietly: