Now and then a subdued word was spoken, but they were very few. The hearts of the watchers were all full, and conversation seemed out of place. Wright was one of the most manly of men, and the hearts of the friends were very sore. The evening wore on until ten o'clock came, when there fell a gentle knock on the outer door. The door was opened and by the moonlight four men could be seen outside. One of them spoke:
"We 'eard as 'ow Hadrian wur gone, and thot to sing a wee bit to he as 'ow the lad might be glad."
They were the famous quartette of Cornish miners and were at once invited in.
They filed softly into the room—the Club rising as they entered—and circled around the casket. After a long look upon the face of the sleeper they stood up and sang a Cornish lament. Their voices were simply glorious. The words, simple but most pathetic, were set to a plaintive air, the refrain of each stanza ending in some minor notes, which gave the impression that tears of pity, as they were falling, had been caught and converted into music.
The effect was profound. The stoicism of the
Club was completely broken down by it. When the lament ceased all were weeping, while warm-hearted and impetuous Corrigan was sobbing like a grieved child.
The quartette waited a moment and then sang a Cornish farewell, the music of which, though mostly very sad, had, here and there, a bar or two such as might be sung around the cradle of Hope, leaving a thought that there might be a victory even over death, and which made the hymn ring half like the Miserere and half like a benediction.
When this was finished and the quartette had waited a moment more, with their magnificent voices at full volume, they sang again—a requiem, which was almost a triumph song, beginning:
Whatever burdens may be sent
For mortals here to bear,
It matters not while faith survives
And God still answers prayer.
I will not falter, though my path
Leads down unto the grave;
The brave man will accept his fate,
And God accepts the brave.
Then with a gentle "Good noight, lads," they were gone.