The procession now went rocking off between corn fields and high hedges along another road than the one it had come by.  The peasant, with the whip in his hand, went on foot in front of the horses, and the cart rolled heavily along behind him.  In addition to the two women, the Sexton now sat in among the baskets with a feather pillow propped against his stomach for protection.  The Hunter, who had modestly stood back during the preparations for departure, now, when the wagon had advanced a short distance, hurried after it with hasty steps.  He found the Pastor, who had also remained behind his accumulation of property, waiting for him in a pleasant spot under some trees.  Here, unrestrained by the ceremonial of the Oberhof, they embraced each other, and the Pastor said, laughing: 

“I’ll wager this is something you never expected—­to discover in your former acquaintance, who used to conduct his young Swedish Count so neatly about on the slippery ground of science and elegant life in the big city, a figure who must remind you of the Reverend Lopez in Fletcher’s Spanish Curate.  As for the proceedings which you have witnessed today, it was absolutely necessary for me to go through with them in person; my entire relation with the people would be broken if I manifested any squeamishness about participating in the old custom.  My predecessor in office, who was not a native of these parts, was ashamed of these regular trips and refused downright to have anything to do with them.  What was the result?  He got himself into serious difficulties with these rural parishes, which even had an influence on the decadence of school and church affairs.  He had finally to petition for his transference, and I immediately made up my mind, when I received my appointment, that I would adapt myself in all things to the customs of the place.  In pursuance of this policy I have so far got along very well, and the appearance of dependency which these trips give me, far from damaging my prestige, rather enhances and secures it.”

“How could it be otherwise?” cried the Hunter.  “I must confess to you that during the entire ceremony, in spite of the comical atmosphere which your Sexton spread over it, I was really touched and the feeling never once left me.  Somehow I saw on the one hand, in your acceptance of these most simple and material gifts, and, on the other, in the reverence with which they were bestowed, the most pious and unpretending symbol of the church, which must have its daily bread in order to exist, and of the faithful who supply her earthly needs in the humble conviction that by so doing they will gain something of high and eternal value.  Hence on neither the one side nor the other does a sense of servitude arise, but rather on both sides there is a deep feeling of the most perfect mutuality.”

“I am glad,” said the Pastor, pressing the Hunter’s hand, “that you so regard it, since another person would perhaps have made fun of the whole business.  For that reason—­I can now own up to it—­I was at first not at all pleased to have you appear so unexpectedly as a witness of those scenes.”