e approached the unknown, and,
almost shoulder to shoulder, he walked along beside him, through a
narrow, dark passage to a little room, where, on a small stage stood,
upright, an empty coffin.

It was a doleful spectacle, which the Cabaret du Squelette (the wine
shop of the skeleton) offered to its clientele of idle loungers and
morbid curiosity seekers attracted to its halls by these exhibitions.
Bernardet knew it all very well, and he knew by just what play of
lights, what common chemical illuminations, they gave to the lookers on
the sinister illusion of the decomposition of a corpse in its narrow
home. This phantasmagoria, to which the people from the Boulevard came,
in order to be amused, he had seen many times in the little theatres in
the fairs at Neuilly. The proprietor of the cabaret had explained it to
him; he had been curious and very keen about it, and so he followed the
crowd into this little hall, to look once more at the image of a man in
the coffin. He knew well to what purpose he could put it. The place was
full. Men and women were standing about; the black walls made the narrow
place look still smaller. Occasional bizarre pleasantries were heard and
nervous laughs rang out. Why is it, that no matter how sceptical people
may be, the idea, the proximity, the appearance of death gives them an
impression of uneasiness, a singular sensation which is often displayed
in nervous laughs or sepulchral drolleries?

Bernardet had not left the side of the young man with the gray felt hat.
He could see his face distinctly in the light of the little hall, and
could study it at his ease. In the shadows which lurked about them the
young man's face seemed like a white spot. The officer's sharp eyes
never left it for a moment.

The manager now asked if some one would try the experiment. This was to
step into the open coffin--that box, as he said--"from which your
friends, your neighbors, can see you dematerialize and return to
nothingness."

"Come, my friends," he continued, in his ironical tones, "this is a fine
thing; it will permit your best friends to see you deliquesce! Are there
any married people here? It is only a question of tasting, in advance,
the pleasures of a widowhood. Would you like to see your husband
disappear, my sister? My brother, do you wish to see your wife
decompose? Sacrifice yourselves, I beg of you! Come! Come up here! Death
awaits you!"

They laughed, but here and there a laugh sounded