"That was a neat idea about the coffins though. I never
hoped to dine off a coffin."
"Ah! you mean the Taverne de l'Enfer?" exclaimed Duprez. "Yes; the
divine waitresses wore winding sheets, and the wine was served in
imitation skulls. Excellent! I remember; the tables were shaped like
coffins."
"Gude Lord Almighty!" piously murmured Macfarlane. "What a fearsome
sicht!"
As he pronounced these words with an unusually marked accent, Duprez
looked inquiring.
"What does our Macfarlane say?"
"He says it must have been a 'fearsome sicht,'" repeated Lorimer, with
even a stronger accent than Sanby's own, "which, _mon cher_ Pierre,
means all the horrors in your language; _affreux_, _epouvantable_,
_navrant_--anything you like, that is sufficiently terrible."
"_Mais, point du tout_!" cried Duprez energetically. "It was charming!
It made us laugh at death--so much better than to cry! And there was a
delicious child in a winding-sheet; brown curls, laughing eyes and
little mouth; ha ha! but she was well worth kissing!"
"I'd rather follow ma own funeral, than kiss a lass in a winding-sheet,"
said Sandy, in solemn and horrified tones.
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