They all told
him about it instead of letting him tell. He therefore kept silence
about that which nobody questioned. The courts found no reason to make
an investigation, and the danger which had menaced the honor of the
family passed quietly over.

One evening a black bier was seen before the house with the green
shutters. At a distance stood groups of women and children, now
whispering softly to one another, now peering eagerly in one direction
with a curiosity that at times became impatient. Here and there a long
black coat and a three-cornered hat came down the street in solemn
gloom and vanished behind the bier into the house. At last the door
opened. The coffin stood on the bier, the pall covered both; gently,
in rhythmical motion, there appeared a black moving mass; now they
were in their places; the pall-bearers adjusted their hats. The
procession moved, rippling, wavering. On top gleamed bright the hammer
which Valentine had polished, and told that what they were now
surrendering to earth had worked honestly between heaven and earth.
The sweet tears of the old women washed away whatever stains clung to
his memory. Inwardly they made a vow that none who belonged to them
should ever become a slater. The slater's calling is a dangerous one,
between heaven and earth; the man who lay beneath the black pall,
between the boards, silent as he was, preached that with poignant
eloquence. They turned their eyes toward the old gentleman who was led
by two mourners. He seemed to embody the very spirit of honest burial.
But when their gaze fell upon Apollonius they forgot the mildness with
which they had just judged; they unburied the dead man from the cool
funeral flowers that covered his human nakedness. The hammer lying
above him would have been covered with the dark rust of shame had it
not been for Apollonius. Then they looked at the young wife, and,
according to the way of their sex, the mourners became match-makers.
And indeed they had right on their side; a bonnier couple or one
better suited could scarce have been found in the whole town. The
procession passed by the Red Eagle, where a ball was in progress at
which Fritz Nettenmair was missing--surely a dull affair! The
procession went the same way that Fritz Nettenmair had gone after he
had talked with the workman. He had then seen in spirit his brother
lying beneath the black fluttering pall and himself following as a
mourner. The procession went on, still keepi