conda homeward, and when she got there drank thirstily; she could not eat. Joconda waited for her to speak in vain.
'What have you seen?' she asked at last.
'I have seen Death, and it is beautiful,' the child answered wearily.
'Beautiful?' said Joconda. 'Child, you have not yet seen what you love die! Do not speak in riddles. What have you seen?'
Musa told her what she had seen; speaking in a hushed strange voice, and with pain.
'Is that all?' said Joconda, when she had ended. 'That is nothing. You stumbled on a grave. I know those people. They are underneath the soil everywhere hereabouts. We call them buche delle fate. They were great people once, I have heard tell, who had cities and palaces and the like, and all is covered with thistles and thorns now; they buried their gold with them, but it did them no good. There are plenty of their graves all over the country, and treasure is dug out of them. But it is not well to rob the dead. For me I would not do so. You took nothing?'
'I? It all went away with him; went away into the air.'
