nder his head."

The men, who were in a hurry, stuffed in the pillow roughly. One of
them, who had mislaid his hammer, began to swear. He had left the tool
below and went to fetch it, dropping the lid, and when two sharp blows
of the hammer drove in the first nail, a shock ran through my being--I
had ceased to live. The nails then entered in rapid succession with a
rhythmical cadence. It was as if some packers had been closing a case
of dried fruit with easy dexterity. After that such sounds as reached
me were deadened and strangely prolonged, as if the deal coffin had been
changed into a huge musical box. The last words spoken in the room of
the Rue Dauphine--at least the last ones that I heard distinctly--were
uttered by Mme Gabin.

"Mind the staircase," she said; "the banister of the second flight isn't
safe, so be careful."

While I was being carried down I experienced a sensation similar to that
of pitching as when one is on board a ship in a rough sea. However, from
that moment my impressions became more and more vague. I remember that
the only distinct thought that still possessed me was an imbecile,
impulsive curiosity as to the road by which I should be taken to the
cemetery. I was not acquainted with a single street of Paris, and I was
ignorant of the position of the large burial grounds (though of course I
had occasionally heard their names), and yet every effort of my mind was
directed toward ascertaining whether we were turning to the right or to
the left. Meanwhile the jolting of the hearse over the paving stones,
the rumbling of passing vehicles, the steps of the foot passengers, all
created a confused clamor, intensified by the acoustical properties of
the coffin.

At first I followed our course pretty closely; then came a halt. I was
again lifted and carried about, and I concluded that we were in church,
but when the funeral procession once more moved onward I lost all
consciousness of the road we took. A ringing of bells informed me that
we were passing another church, and then the softer and easier progress
of the wheels indicated that we were skirting a garden or park. I was
like a victim being taken to the gallows, awaiting in stupor a deathblow
that never came.

At last they stopped and pulled me out of the hearse. The business
proceeded rapidly. The noises had ceased; I knew that I was in a
deserted space amid avenues of trees and with the broad sky over my
head. No doubt a few persons follo