‘I think you remember it all too well,’ said the Archbishop, smiling. ‘It was a joyful day for me. I had learned a great deal on that rock where Padda found us. Yes--yess! One should deal kindly with all the creatures of God, and gently with their masters. But one learns late.’
He rose, and his gold-embroidered sleeves rustled thickly.
‘Wait a minute,’ Dan whispered. ‘She’s going to do the trumpety one. It takes all the wind you can pump. It’s in Latin, sir.’
‘There is no other tongue,’ the Archbishop answered.
‘It’s not a real hymn,’ Una explained. ‘She does it as a treat after her exercises. She isn’t a real organist, you know. She just comes down here sometimes, from the Albert Hall.’
‘Oh, what a miracle of a voice!’ said the Archbishop.
It rang out suddenly from a dark arch of lonely noises--every word spoken to the very end:
‘Dies Irae, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla, Teste David cum Sibylla.’ The Archbishop caught his breath and moved forward. The music carried on by itself a while.
‘Now it’s calling all the light out of the windows,’ Una whispered to Dan.
‘I think it’s more like a horse neighing in battle,’ he whispered back. The voice continued:
‘Tuba mirum spargens sonum Per sepulchre regionum.’
Deeper and deeper the organ dived down, but far below its deepest note they heard Puck’s voice joining in the last line:
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.
‘Recordare Jesu pie, Quod sum causa Tuae viae, Ne me perdas illi die!’
There was no more. They moved out into the centre aisle.
‘That you?’ the Lady called as she shut the lid. ‘I thought I heard you, and I played it on purpose.’
‘Thank you awfully,’ said Dan. ‘We hoped you would, so we waited. Come on, Una, it’s pretty nearly dinner-time.’