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."
The child's voice responded:--
"Et lux perpetua luceat ei."
He heard something like the gentle patter of several drops of rain on the plank which covered him.
It was probably the holy water.
He thought:
"This will be over soon now.
Patience for a little while longer.
The priest will take his departure. Fauchelevent will take Mestienne off to drink.
I shall be left. Then Fauchelevent will return alone, and I shall get out. That will be the work of a good hour."