CHAPTER XXIII.
Like all wise rulers, who feel that they ought to mark the epoch of their arrival at power with certain merciful actions, Morten had given permission to Per Karl to drive the hearse with the old blacks, which were, however, condemned to be shot on the following day.
The old coachman had got them into "funeral trim," as he said, and for three days had groomed them incessantly. The last night he had passed in the stable, so that they should not lie down and spoil their coats. They were therefore shining as they never shone before, when, at eleven o'clock on Saturday morning, they drew up with the hearse at the door.
There are three kinds of hearses, so that one has the option of driving to the churchyard just as one travels by rail—in a first, second, or third class carriage. Unless, indeed, one manages to quit life in such an abject state of poverty, that one has to get one's self carried on foot by one's friends. Consul Garman drove first class, in a carriage adorned with angels' heads and silver trappings. Per Karl sat under the
