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ject.
‘Reverend Mother, I am the one who is to nail up the
coffin in the basement of the church, and no one can enter
there but myself, and I will cover the coffin with the pall.’
‘Yes, but the bearers, when they place it in the hearse and
lower it into the grave, will be sure to feel that there is noth-
ing in it.’
‘Ah! the de—!’ exclaimed Fauchelevent.
The prioress began to make the sign of the cross, and
looked fixedly at the gardener. The vil stuck fast in his
throat.
He made haste to improvise an expedient to make her
forget the oath.
‘I will put earth in the coffin, reverend Mother. That will
produce the effect of a corpse.’
‘You are right. Earth, that is the same thing as man. So
you will manage the empty coffin?’
‘I will make that my special business.’
The prioress’s face, up to that moment troubled and
clouded, grew serene once more. She made the sign of a
superior dismissing an inferior to him. Fauchelevent went
towards the door. As he was on the point of passing out, the
prioress raised her voice gently:—
‘I am pleased with you, Father Fauvent; bring your broth-
er to me to-morrow, after the burial, and tell him to fetch
his daughter.’