eleven o’clock
In the death-chamber Schmucke was lying with his arms about the body of his friend , holding him in a tight clasp ; nothing but the authority of religion availed to separate him from his dead . Then the priest settled himself comfortably in the easy-chair and read his prayers while Schmucke , kneeling beside the couch , besought God to work a miracle and unite him to Pons , so that they might be buried in the same grave ; and Mme. Cantinet went on her way to the Temple to buy a pallet and complete bedding for Mme. Sauvage . The twelve hundred and fifty francs were regarded as plunder . At eleven o'clock Mme. Cantinet came in to ask if Schmucke would not eat a morsel , but with a gesture he signified that he wished to be left in peace . `` Your supper is ready , M. Pastelot , '' she said , addressing the priest , and they went . Schmucke , left alone in the room , smiled to himself like a madman free at last to gratify a desire like the longing of pregnancy . He flung himself down beside Pons , and yet again he held his friend in a long , close embrace .