hear, this place, and you must never speak of it.'
Zirlo stared at her in the twilight.
'Yours?' he said, wonderingly.
'Mine, because I found it,' said Musa, and, added under her breath, 'Of course, it is theirs.'
'It is a cave,' said Zirlo, as his eyes wandered over the vault and the walls.
'It is a tomb,' said Musa.
The boy shuddered.
'You say that to frighten me. There is never a tomb made like this. A little hole in the earth, and a wooden box pushed in—that is what they call a tomb. I know, for they buried my mother last year.'
'You have no mother?'
'No.'
'I too have none.'
The common misfortune drew them together a little nearer; Zirlo's eyes filled with tears; Musa stood grave and absorbed; he knew all he lost; she could only imagine it. The storm still beat above ground; they could hear the breaking of boughs, the rushing of winds, the scampering hoofs of terrified animals running hither and thither.
