cheaile? I will teach you to love them. You shall see me die here to-day,
for half an hour, and be among them. That is what I love.'

We were by this time at the little brook's side, and the low churchyard
wall with a stile, reached by a couple of stepping-stones, across the
stream, immediately at the other side.

'Come, now!' cried Madame, raising her face, as if to sniff the air; 'we
are close to them. You will like them soon as I. You shall see five of
them. Ah, ça ira, ça ira, ça ira! Come cross quickily! I am Madame la
Morgue--Mrs. Deadhouse! I will present you my friends, Monsieur Cadavre and
Monsieur Squelette. Come, come, leetle mortal, let us play. Ouaah!' And
she uttered a horrid yell from her enormous mouth, and pushing her wig and
bonnet back, so as to show her great, bald head. She was laughing, and
really looked quite mad.

'No, Madame, I will not go with you,' I said, disengaging my hand with a
violent effort, receding two or three steps.

'Not enter the churchyard! Ma foi--wat mauvais goût! But see, we are
already in shade. The sun he is setting soon--where well you remain,
cheaile? I will not stay long.'

'I'll stay here,' I said, a little angrily--for I _was_ angry as well as
nervous; and through my fear was that indignation at her extravagances
which mimicked lunacy so unpleasantly, and were, I knew, designed to
frighten me.

Over the stepping-stones, pulling up her dress, she skipped with her long,
lank legs, like a witch joining a Walpurgis. Over the stile she strode, and