t later four more cars appeared, bearing the
Government insignia, and disappeared in the same direction. These were
the officials, they said, going to Dean's Yard, where the procession
would assemble.

At about a quarter to ten the crowd at the west end of Victoria Street
began to raise its voice in a song, and by the time that was over, and
the bells had burst out from the Abbey towers, a rumour had somehow made
its entrance that Felsenburgh was to be present at the ceremony. There
was no assignable reason for this, neither then nor afterwards; in fact,
the _Evening Star_ declared that it was one more instance of the
astonishing instinct of human beings _en masse_; for it was not until an
hour later that even the Government were made aware of the facts. Yet
the truth remained that at half-past ten one continuous roar went up,
drowning even the brazen clamour of the bells, reaching round to
Whitehall and the crowded pavements of Westminster Bridge, demanding
Julian Felsenburgh. Yet there had been absolutely no news of the
President of Europe for the last fortnight, beyond an entirely
unsupported report that he was somewhere in the East.

And all the while the motors poured from all directions towards the
Abbey and disappeared under the arch into Dean's Yard, bearing those
fortunate persons whose tickets actually admitted them to the church
itself. Cheers ran and rippled along the lines as the great men were
recognised--Lord Pemberton, Oliver Brand and his wife, Mr. Caldecott,
Maxwell, Snowford, with the European delegates--even melancholy-faced
Mr. Francis himself, the Government _ceremoniarius_, received a
greeting. But by a quarter to eleven, when the pealing bells paused, the
stream had stopped, the barriers issued out to stop the roads, the wire
palisadings vanished, and the crowd for an instant, ceasing its roaring,
sighed with relief at the relaxed pressure, and surged out into the
roadways. Then once more the roaring began for Julian Felsenburgh.

The sun was now high, still a copper disc, above the Victoria Tower, but
paler than an hour ago; the whiteness of the Abbey, the heavy greys of
Parliament House, the ten thousand tints of house-roofs, heads,
streamers, placards began to disclose themselves.

A single bell tolled five minutes to the hour, and the moments slipped
by, until once more the bell stopped, and to the ears of those within
hearing of the great west doors came the first blare of the huge organ,