He was weak, spoke quietly, and never managed to tell her the exact location.<\/p>\n
At first, the widow thought she could forget about it. But with each passing day, the thought of treasures haunted her. And so, armed with a shovel, she began her search.<\/p>\n
Pit after pit, flowerbed after flowerbed \u2013 but so far no glitter of gold, no antique coins. Only dark, damp earth, the smell of which now filled her house.<\/p>\n
They say that she is still digging.<\/p>\n
And no one knows \u2013 whether it is simply a thirst to find her husband\u2019s legacy, or whether there is something else hidden under her garden that he never dared to tell her.<\/p>\n