The funeral for the butler was held the next day. All the strange numbness that Eleanora had felt upon seeing his body for the first time came back—that feeling of impossibility; that what was happening couldn't really be happening; that it's all just a bad dream.
But no, it was really happening. This was really happening. They were actually burying the butler.
She thought that it was a bit disrespectful to bury the man dressed in his tailcoat. She thought that the Earl could have sprung for at least a suit or something, something that didn't relate to service. The man had served all of his life and now he would be serving in death, not a chance of freedom even after life. How sad.
She didn't look at the body as it passed. Instead she stared at the tombstone. It was a nice enough stone; she liked the saying on it—May ye be in heaven an hour before the devil knows you're dead—although she didn't know why it applied to the butler. Maybe he was a sinful man.
But of course he was a sinful man; and probably insane to boot; no nice, normal man would go around kidnapping and then torturing maids so that he could get married. It was foolish to pity him; he didn't deserve any pity.
So why did she feel as if she was going to start crying?
"Nerves," she consoled herself. "Pure nerves. I hate funerals. I'd cry if even a demon was being buried."
The coffin was placed in the hole and the dirt was tossed over it and they were starting to go back home again when Elizabeth—Ciel's fiancée—suddenly threw herself at him.
"He lied!" she sobbed. "He promised you that he would never leave you! He lied! How could he! He lied!"
Now everyone was crying and Eleanora had to look away again. For some reason she was recalling the marriage vows that she had once heard before:
"From this day forward, know that if you fall, I will lift you up. If you lack the strength to go on, I will carry you. If your path is dark, I will light your way. If you are threatened by the storm, I will be your shelter, and walk beside you all the days of my life."
"How funny," she thought. "It's almost hilarious, even."
She continued walking away from the grave, away from the body of her husband, when suddenly she heard a bell ring. She turned to look—the safety bell on the gravestone was ringing.
Finny noticed it as well.
"Look—"
Now everyone was looking at the ringing bell.
"But there's no wind or anything…"
The Undertaker grinned.
"Well, then, you know then that there's only one other reason for a bell like that to ring…"
Everyone looked at him for a while, then understanding dawned.
"Get him out of there!" Bardroy shouted and suddenly they were all on the ground, clawing at it, bringing up the coffin again, opening it…
"Ahhh," Sebastian sighed, sitting up. "I'm finally out of there; it was getting quite cramped." He looked up at the assembly with a frown—"Everyone—"—They were leaping for him—"Oh."
And they landed on him and there were tears from all and that foreign butler was screaming that it was a miracle from God and the servants were hugging him and drenching him with their tears and the Undertaker was commenting that in all of his years as a funeral worker he had never actually seen one of the bells ring and Eleanora was just standing there.
Eventually everyone had calmed down enough for Sebastian to actually get out of the coffin.
"Ugh, I'm covered in tears and nasal secretions," he groaned and the Earl of Phantomhive offered him his handkerchief to get him cleaned up.
Misery had gone; now joy reigned rampant and didn't seem to want to ebb away. They were all again heading back for Phantomhive, but this time for a celebration. There was talk of wine and good food and everyone was smiling and so, so happy.
Sebastian dropped back to walk with his wife, who was striding demurely, watching the scenery go by.
"Hello," he said. "Long time no see."
"Indeed," she said calmly, like she was used to seeing butlers pop back up from the grave after they had just been buried.
"Did you miss me?" he asked.
"I didn't have enough time to," she said.
"A pity," he said. "Perhaps I should have been dead for longer."
"And maybe you should have remained dead," she told him, but as they continued walking, she slung his arm through his.