"Give it to me," was my only remark. "I will go and bury it."

"How so? For, as a matter of fact, it ought to be buried under
the floor in front of some stove."

"Are we to build a stove HERE? Build it in five minutes?" I
retorted.

"Ah, I was jesting. But really, I would rather not have it
buried here, lest some wild beast should come and devour it. . .
Yet it ought to be committed only to the earth."

That said, she, with averted eyes, handed me a moist and heavy
bundle; and as she did so she said under her breath, with an air
of confusion:

"I beg of you for Christ's sake to bury it as well, as deeply,
as you can. Out of pity for my son do as I bid you."

I did as she had requested; and, just as the task had been
completed, I perceived her returning from the margin of the sea
with unsteady gait, and an arm stretched out before her, and a
petticoat soaked to the middle with the sea water. Yet all her
face was alight with inward fire, and as I helped her to regain
the spot where I had prepared some sticks I could not help
reflecting with some astonishment:

"How strong indeed she is!"