Suddenly someone started the revival hymn, "Shall We Gather at the River ?" It was taken up vigorously by the thirty or forty young men who had followed the coffin, and their voices, rising and falling in a familiar lilting melody, filled the station: Yes, we'll gather at the river, The beautiful, beautiful river-- Gather with the saints at the river, That flows by the throne of God! Elizabeth looked towards the entrance of the station.

A tall and slender man had just stepped on to the platform.

It was the Governor-General, with a small staff behind him.

The staff and the station officials stood hat in hand.

A few English tourists from the West-bound train hurried up; the men uncovered, the ladies curtsied.