A shout of approbation rent the air. Then there was a cry, “Into the Cathedral!” and the Prince entered, and all else who could. There was no rioting among the people—the occasion was too solemn for that—and they waited patiently. Was it by accident that it was the time for the morning service? A great hush fell upon the throng, and never before was there so imposing a scene as then, all the more so because it was unpremeditated. When the anthem was sung a thrill went through the assembly, for the clear notes of a boy’s voice rang out the significant words, “I know that my Redeemer liveth!” Men were not ashamed of their tears that day. Who could help shedding them? But the Prince was not one of the weepers. His eyes shone with a lustre that told of the high thoughts that filled his soul, and his steadfast heart feared nothing. When he came out of the cathedral, and cast his eyes over its proportions, there was a smile upon his lips, though he knew how probable it was that he had seen the building for the last time. All the way to Dover crowds of people attended him or flocked near to get a glimpse of his benignant face. When at last the sea was in sight he was glad, for the lengthened strain was beginning to tell upon him. The ship was decorated with flags, and some girls came forward to strew flowers in his path. The Prince thanked the soldiers for their escort, and urged them to give the weight of their influence to the peace party. “Men are wanted,” he said, “for other things than to slay and be slain. If the armies were disbanded, and the soldiers would learn the arts of peace, a better day would dawn for the world. You could go _home_. God bless the homes of England!” Never was vessel watched by so many eyes as this, which seemed to fly across the Channel. Other ships hastened after it, and a thousand prayers went up that the Prince might come again to the people who loved him, and that the battle might be decided in his favour. They were asking the same in France for their Bayard, who had suddenly become their hero. But is not this prayer, “God be on my side,” characteristic of every fight? CHAPTER XXXV. WAS IT EXPEDIENT THAT ONE SHOULD DIE?