‘Aye, aye,’ murmured Uncle Mark, closing his eyes.
Whereupon Brother Hornblower, clasping his hands before him and looking on vacancy, commenced to sing in his own peculiar style part of a hymn which was very popular with the Brethren of the river:
Up the shining river,
Sailing with the tide,
Jesus is my pilot,
Jesus is my guide.
Steer the wessel, Jesus,
Steer it night and day,
To the Golden City
Far, far away.