e and
sweating horses, seemed to have come from a great distance. Followed
by an aged servant, Ibarra left the carriage and dismissed it with a
wave of his hand, then gravely and silently turned toward the cemetery.

"My illness and my duties have not permitted me to return," said the
old servant timidly. "Capitan Tiago promised that he would see that
a niche was constructed, but I planted some flowers on the grave and
set up a cross carved by my own hands." Ibarra made no reply. "There
behind that big cross, sir," he added when they were well inside the
gate, as he pointed to the place.

Ibarra was so intent upon his quest that he did not notice the
movement of surprise on the part of the persons who recognized him
and suspended their prayers to watch him curiously. He walked along
carefully to avoid stepping on any of the graves, which were easily
distinguishable by the hollow places in the soil. In other times he
had walked on them carelessly, but now they were to be respected:
his father lay among them. When he reached the large cross he stopped
and looked all around. His companion stood confused and confounded,
seeking some mark in the ground, but nowhere was any cross to be seen.

"Was it here?" he murmured through his teeth. "No, there! But the
ground has been disturbed."

Ibarra gave him a look of anguish.

"Yes," he went on, "I remember that there was a stone near it. The
grave was rather short. The grave-digger was sick, so a farmer had
to dig it. But let's ask that man what has become of the cross."

They went over to where the grave-digger was watching them with
curiosity. He removed his salakot respectfully as they approached.

"Can you tell me which is the grave there that had a cross over
it?" asked the servant.

The grave-digger looked toward the place and reflected. "A big cross?"

"Yes, a big one!" affirmed the servant eagerly, with a significant
look at Ibarra, whose face lighted up.

"A carved cross tied up with rattan?" continued the grave-digger.

"That's it, that's it, like this!" exclaimed the servant in answer
as he drew on the ground the figure of a Byzantine cross.

"Were there flowers scattered on the grave?"

"Oleanders and tuberoses and forget-me-nots, yes!" the servant added
joyfully, offering the grave-digger a cigar.

"Tell us which is the grave and where the cross is."

The grave-digger scratched his ear and answered with a yawn: "Well,
as for the cross, I burned it."