The six men, three on either side, walked slowly, panting a little.

The priests, the choristers, and the two choirboys recited the De

profundis*, and their voices echoed over the fields, rising and falling

with their undulations. Sometimes they disappeared in the windings of

the path; but the great silver cross rose always before the trees.

*Psalm CXXX.

The women followed in black cloaks with turned-down hoods; each of them

carried in her hands a large lighted candle, and Charles felt himself

growing weaker at this continual repetition of prayers and torches,

beneath this oppressive odour of wax and of cassocks. A fresh breeze was

blowing; the rye and colza were sprouting, little dewdrops trembled at

the roadsides and on the hawthorn hedges. All sorts of joyous sounds

filled the air; the jolting of a cart rolling afar off in the ruts, the

crowing of a cock, repeated again and again, or the gambling of a foal

running away under the apple-trees: The pure sky was fretted with rosy

clouds; a bluish haze rested upon the cots covered with iris. Charles as

he passed recognised each courtyard. He remembered mornings like this,

when, after visiting some patient, he came out from one and returned to

her.

The black cloth bestrewn with white beads blew up from time to time,

laying bare the coffin. The tired bearers walked more slowly, and it

advanced with constant jerks, like a boat that pitches with every wave.

They reached the cemetery. The men went right down to a place in the

grass where a grave was dug. They ranged themselves all round; and while

the priest spoke, the red soil thrown up at the sides kept noiselessly

slipping down at the corners.

Then when the four ropes were arranged the coffin was placed upon them.

He watched it descend; it seemed descending for ever. At last a thud was

heard; the ropes creaked as they were drawn up. Then Bournisien took

the spade handed to him by Lestiboudois; with his left hand all the

time sprinkling water, with the right he vigorously threw in a large

spadeful; and the wood of the coffin, struck by the pebbles, gave forth

that dread sound that seems to us the reverberation of eternity.

The ecclesiastic passed the holy water sprinkler to his neighbour. This

was Homais. He swung it gravely, then handed it to Charles, who sank to

his knees in the earth and threw in handfuls of it, crying, "Adieu!" He

sent her kisses; he dragged himself towards the grave, to engulf himself

with her. They led him away, and he soon grew calmer, feeling perhaps,

like the others, a vague satisfaction that it was all over.




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