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Everything was in order, and he, the village-elder, would see to it that it was kept so. Besides, old Wackwitz was an honest, stupid sort of fellow; he was quite to be trusted. For the funeral, of course, everything had been arranged according to the dead man's desire. But the old sergeant was not buried without having the three salutes fired over his grave.
The terrified eyes of the mare were staring into vacancy, but those of the woman indeed she was but a girl were closed, and her small delicate hands still gripped the bridle firmly. The foreman sent a boy to inform the village-elder; the other workmen stood in a silent circle round the unfortunate pair. "Mates," said the foreman at last, "it's quite clear there is nothing to be done.
They knocked at the door of the turnpike-keeper's little house, and tapped on the window shutters. Nothing could be heard but the sighing of the wind; and at last they turned away homewards. But next morning the milk-pitcher was still absent, and there was no smoke from the chimney. The village-elder was then informed. He ordered out the gendarme, and sent a locksmith to force the door.
Half the village went after them and crowded round the turnpike-keeper's cottage, so that the gendarme had some trouble in keeping the women and children at a distance. The village-elder banged on the door with his fist and rattled the handle. "Herr Vogt!" he cried, "Herr Vogt! open the door!" And again: "Herr Vogt! turnpike-keeper! open the door!"
The gendarme laid his hand on the shoulder of the dead man and said: "You were just looking at your cross again, old comrade, were you, and then you fell asleep?" The two men put the money and the papers back into the cash-box, which the village-elder placed in a cupboard that stood open. This he locked, and took possession of the key.
The village-elder from home had come himself all this long way to inform the son of his father's death. There he stood, big, fat, and strong, in his sheepskin cloak; a freer breath of air seemed to have come in with him, and he related all there was to tell. It was not even certain when the turnpike-keeper had died. With the departure of summer the old man had seemed gradually to decay.
The expenses of my burying are to be defrayed from the money contained in the box labelled 'funeral money. I wish to have a very simple funeral, and desire particularly that my son shall only be informed of my death after the ceremony is over, in case it should happen before February 3rd next year." "We shook our heads over that," said the village-elder to Franz.
Then the village-elder turned to the locksmith: "We must break the door open." The lock was soon forced, but the door would only open an inch or two; an iron bar had been fixed across it, but that was soon lifted. A couple of young men were posted at the door to keep out the crowd, which thronged around the house in silent breathless curiosity. The two officials stepped into the passage.
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