A great congregation, representing all classes of society, had assembled, and the nursing profession and the various branches of the women's military services were largely in evidence. For fully half an hour the waiting gathering listened enraptured to entrancing and uplifting music of the Grenadier Guards' band. The last notes died away. Suddenly the assembly rose as Queen Alexandra was ushered to her seat. With her was Princess Victoria; and the King was represented by the Earl of Athlone. A few moments later the strains of Chopin's funeral march could be heard outside the Abbey, betokening the arrival of the _cortège_; and then beautiful voices echoed and re-echoed through aisle and transept as the choir met the coffin, which progressed slowly from the great west door towards the catafalque that waited to receive its noble burden. Tall Guardsmen bore shoulder high the coffin, covered with the Union Jack, which Edith Cavell had honoured with her life. To rest upon the glorious colours Queen Alexandra had sent a magnificent wreath of red and white carnations and arum lilies, to which an autograph card was attached upon which she had written: In memory of our brave, heroic, never-to-be-forgotten Nurse Cavell. Life's race well run, Life's work well done, Life's crown well won, Now comes rest. From ALEXANDRA. The service was marked by severe simplicity that savoured nothing of exultation over a fallen foe; and yet there was the beautiful exultation that belongs essentially to the Church of England Order for the Burial of the Dead, which proceeded with tense emotion until the congregation and choir united in singing 'Abide with me.' The Dean pronounced the blessing. The Dead March from _Saul_ was played with all the poignant appeal of rolling and booming drums, wailing reeds, and the triumphant clangour of brass. The 'Last Post,' heralded by a roll of drums, commencing so softly as scarcely to be audible, swelled to a roar before it died into the silence, on which broke the bugles; and last the 'Réveillé.' Out of the shadows of the centuries into the sunlit street the flower-decked coffin was borne by the eight Guardsmen bearers to be replaced on the gun-carriage, which passed through the crowded City to Liverpool Street Station, _en route_ for Norwich, and every yard of the way there was evidence that the spirit of Edith Cavell was living in the throngs who mourned her loss, even as they honoured her sacrifice.