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Updated: May 4, 2025
When the croquemorts, in a business way, lifted the velvet from the coffin, it was seen to be constructed of strips of deal merely, unpainted, and not thicker than a Malaga raisin box. There was some fear that it would fall apart of its own fragility, but the chief croquemort explained politely that such accidents never happened.
It seemed a long way over the boggy soil to the newly opened trench, where the hearse stopped with its wheels half-sunken, and the chief croquemort, without any ado, threw the coffin over his shoulder and walked to the place of sepulture.
"But for heaven's sake, if it is to lead anywhere, don't come back with that visage de croquemort. You look as if you were going to bury your heart not to offer it to a pretty woman. You're much better when you smile you're very nice then. Come, do yourself justice." He remained a moment face to face with her, but his expression didn't change.
"And I," he said, "am Agrippa Pavanes, without a De, lieutenant of the Gate of St. Michel; and your friend there is, I suppose, Monsieur de Croquemort, lieutenant of Trouands. And, as we all know each other now, I tell you plainly you must hold patience by the tail as best you may until the gates are opened. Letter or no letter, I will not let you through."
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