‘I think it’s more like a horse neighing in battle,’ he whispered back. The voice cried:
‘Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulchra regionum.’
Deeper and deeper the organ dived down, but far below its deepest note they heard Puck’s voice joining in the last line:
‘Coget omnes ante thronum.’
As they looked in wonder, for it sounded like the dull jar of one of the very pillars shifting, the little fellow turned and went out through the south door.
‘Now’s the sorrowful part, but it’s very beautiful.’ Una found herself speaking to the empty chair in front of her.
‘What are you doing that for?’ Dan said behind her. ‘You spoke so politely too.’
‘I don’t know ... I thought ...’ said Una. ‘Funny!’
‘’Tisn’t. It’s the part you like best,’ Dan grunted.
The music had turned soft—full of little sounds that chased each other on wings across the broad gentle flood of the main tune. But the voice was ten times lovelier than the music.