Page:Francesca Carrara 2.pdf/329

326 The time came for the coffin to be consigned to the ground; she saw them lay aside the pall and prepare the ropes; she sprang forward, but her strength failed her, and she was forced to lean against a tombstone for support. They lowered the body into that damp, dark pit, and involuntarily she hid her face in her hands, to shut out the whole scene. What now remained for her to look upon! She was roused by the sound—that most dreadful of all sounds that ever sank the heart to hear—the gravel rattling on the coffin! To the last day of her life that noise haunted her. Often in the still midnight it came distinct on her ear—a terrible and eternal farewell! Gradually the quick, hard fall ceased—the mould had attained some depth; but the silence was even worse—it told how nearly all was over.

Francesca looked up,—they were trampling down the clay. It was as if they were treading on her own heart. She sank, half fainting, hut still conscious, on the tomb where she had leant. Lucy gently put back the hood from her face, and the fresh air revived her.

It was now over, and Francesca felt for a moment as if all passing around were a dream! She remained still and breathless; to move, to look, might make it reality,—she dared not ascertain