He knew, from the diminution in the jolting, when they left the pavements and reached the earth road.
He had divined, from a dull noise, that they were crossing the bridge of Austerlitz.
At the first halt, he had understood that they were entering the cemetery; at the second halt, he said to himself:--
"Here is the grave."
Suddenly, he felt hands seize the coffin, then a harsh grating against the planks; he explained it to himself as the rope which was being fastened round the casket in order to lower it into the cavity.
Then he experienced a giddiness.
The undertaker''s man and the grave-digger had probably allowed the coffin to lose its balance, and had lowered the head before the foot.
He recovered himself fully when he felt himself horizontal and motionless.
He had just touched the bottom.
He had a certain sensation of cold.
A voice rose above him, glacial and solemn.
He heard Latin words, which he did not understand, pass over him, so slowly that he was able to catch them one by one:--
"Qui dormiunt in terrae pulvere, evigilabunt; alii in vitam aeternam, et alii in approbrium, ut videant semper."
A child''s voice said:--
"De profundis."
The grave voice began again:--
"Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine."