the outlines of the figure as it had been pressed into the sand under
the heavy weight. One could see that the buried girl had tried to
protect eyes and mouth with her right hand; the left lay in a graceful
attitude across her breast; her face was turned toward the ground.

"Who were you, dainty child, that found a solitary death here?" said
the holy man, deeply touched. "For there is no trace of a companion
near. A child, or a girl just entering maidenhood? But, at any rate, a
Christian--no Moor; here on her neck, fastened by a silver chain, is a
gold cross. And beside it a strange ornament,--a bronze half-circle
with characters inscribed on it, not Latin, Greek, nor Hebrew. No
matter. The girl's bones shall not remain scattered in the desert. The
Christian shall sleep in consecrated ground. The peasants must help me
to bury her here or in the neighborhood."

He went to Decimum. The traces of the Vandal battle had long since
vanished. The village children who had then fled were now grown men,
the owners of the houses and fields. The peasant to whom the hermit
related his touching discovery listened attentively. But when the
latter spoke of the bronze half-circle with the singular characters, he
interrupted him, exclaiming:

"Strange! In the hill-tomb, the great stone vault outside of our
village,--I own the hill, and vines grow on the southern slope,--there
lies, according to trustworthy tradition, a Vandal boy-prince who fell
here, and beside him a mighty warrior, a terrible giant, who is said to
have remained faithfully by his side. The priests say he was a monster,
a god of thunder, one of the old pagan gods of the Barbarians, with
whose fall fortune deserted them. Well, the giant has hanging on his
arm a half-circle exactly like the one you describe. Perhaps the two
belonged together? Who knows? We cannot dig a grave in the desert; even
if we try, the wind will blow it away. Come, I'll harness the horses to
my wagon; we will go out to the dead woman and lay her beside the
giant; his grave has already been consecrated by the priests."

This was done. But when they had placed the delicate form beside the
mighty one, and the monk had muttered a prayer, he asked: "Tell me,
friend,--I saw with joyful surprise that you had left all the ornaments
upon the dead; and that you should receive nothing for your trouble
with the poor girl's skeleton is not exactly--"

"Peasant custom, do you mean? You are right, holy fathe