As the throng passes through the gates many of the men seize spades and picks, implements which they know only too well how to use.
It does not take twenty minutes to dig the grave.
When the work is completed, the fact dawns upon the minds of the leaders that they have neglected to provide a coffin for the bodies.
"What shall we do for coffins?" one of the grave-diggers asks, as he smooths over the edges of the grave.
"Give them soldiers' burial," suggests one of the bystanders.
"Here, take my shawl," says a shivering woman, as she pulls a thin faded gray shawl from her shoulders.
Her suggestion is followed by a score of other trembling wretches. The strangest shroud that ever wrapped mortal remains is used in the interment.
The bodies of Metz and Purdy are still being carried by the miners. Now a priest who has accompanied the funeral from the time it crossed the bridge, is escorted through the crowd to the edge of the grave.
"Will you conduct the burial service over these two bodies?" Trueman asks of the man of God.
"Neither was prepared for death," protests the priest.