the name they had for it in the nursery and in the fields when unlettered men had long memories。 You can see where the old house stood near the village church； they call the field 〃Castle Hill〃； Horlick's field where the ground's uneven and half of it is waste； nettle； and brier in hollows too deep for ploughing。 They dug to the foundations to carry the stone for the new house； the house that was a century old when Aunt Julia was born。 Those were our roots in the waste hollows of Castle Hill； in the brier and nettle； among the tombs in the old church and the chantry where no clerk sings。
'Aunt Julia knew the tombs； cross…legged knight and doubleted earl； marquis like a Roman senator； limestone； alabaster； and Italian marble； tapped the escutcheons with her ebony cane； made the casque ring over old Sir Roger。 We were knights then； barons since Agincourt； the larger honours came with the Georges。 They came the last and they'll go the first； the barony goes on。 When all of you are dead Julia's son will be called by the name his fathers bore before the fat days； the days of wool shearing and the wide corn lands； the days of growth and building； when the marshes were drained and the waste land brought under the plough； when one built the house； his son added the dome； his son spread the wings and dammed the river。 Aunt Julia watched them build the fountain； it was old before it came here； weathered two hundred years by the suns of Naples； brought by man…o'…war in the days of Nelson。 Soon the fountain will be dry till the rain fills it； setting the fallen leaves afloat in the basin； and over the lakes the reeds will spread and close。 Better today。
'Better today。 I have lived carefully； sheltered myself from the cold winds； eaten moderately of what was in season； drunk fine claret； slept in my own sheets； I shall live long。 I was fifty when they dismounted us and sent us into the line； old men stay at the base； the orders said； but Walter Venables； my manding officer； my nearest neighbour； said： 〃You're as fit as the youngest of them； Alex。〃 So I was； so I am now； if I could only breathe。
'No air； no wind stirring under the velvet canopy。 When the summer es；' said Lord Marchmain； oblivious of the deep corn and swelling fruit and the surfeited bees who slowly sought their hives in the heavy afternoon sunlight outside his windows； 'when the summer es I shall leave my bed and sit in the open air and breathe more easily。
'Who would have thought that all these little gold men； gentlemen in their own country； could live so long without breathing？ Like to toads in the coal； down a deep mine； untroubled。 God take it； why have they dug a hole for me？ Must a man stifle to death in his own cellars？ Plender； Gaston； open the windows。'
'The windows are all wide open； my lord。'
A cylinder of oxygen was placed beside his bed； with a long tube； a face…piece； and a little stop…cock he could work himself。 Often he said： 'It's empty… look nurse； there's nothing es out。'
'No； Lord Marchmain； it's quite full； the bubble here in the glass bulb shows that； it's at full pressure； listen； don't you hear it hiss？ Try and breathe slowly； Lord Marchmain； quite gently； then you get the benefit。'
'Free as air； that's what they say … 〃free as air〃。 Now they bring me my air in an iron barrel。'
Once he said： 'Cordelia； what became of the chapel？'
'They locked it up； papa； when mummy died。'
'It was hers； I gave it to her。 We've always been builders in our family。 I built it for her； in the shade of the pavilion； rebuilt with the old stones behind the old walls； it was the last of the new house to e； the first to go。 There used to be a chaplain until the war。 Do you remember him？'
'I was too young。'
'Then I went away … left her in the chapel praying。 It was hers。 It was the place for her。 I never came back to disturb her prayers。 They said we were fighting for freedom； I had my own victory。 Was it a crime？'
'I think it was； papa。'
'Crying to heaven for vengeance？ Is that why they've locked me in this cave； do you think； with a black tube of air and the little yellow men along the walls； who live without breathing？ Do you think that； child？ But the wind will e soon； tomorrow perhaps； and we'll breathe again。 The ill wind that will blow me good。 Better tomorrow。'
Thus； till mid…July； Lord Marchmain lay dying； wearing himself down in the struggle to…live。 Then； since there was no reason to expect an immediate change； Cordelia went to London to see her women s organization about the ing 'emergency'。 That day Lord Marchmain became suddenly worse。 He lay silent and quite still； breathing laboriously； only his open eyes； which sometimes moved about the room； gave any sign of consciousness。
'Is this the end？' Julia asked。
'It is impossible to say；' the doctor answered； 'when he does die it will probably be like this。 He may recover from the present attack。 The only thing is not to disturb him。 The least shock will be fatal。'
'I'm going for Father Mackay；' she said。
I was not surprised。 I had seen it in her mind all the summer。 When she had gone I said to the doctor； 'We must stop this nonsense。'
He said： 'My business is with the body。 It's not my business to argue whether people are better alive or dead； or what happens to them after death。 I only try to keep them alive。'
'And you said just now any shock would kill him。 What could be worse for a man who fears death； as he does； than to have a priest brought to him … a priest he turned out when he had the strength？'
'I think it may kill him。'
'Then will you forbid it？'
'I've no authority to forbid anything。 I can only give my opinion。'
'Cara； what do you think？'
'I don't want him made unhappy。 That is all there is to hope for now； that he'll die without knowing it。 But I should like the priest there； all the same。'
'Will you try and persuade Julia to keep him away … until the end？ After that he can do no harm。'
'I will ask her to leave Alex happy； yes。'
In half an hour Julia was back with Father Mackay。 We all met in the library。
'I've telegraphed for Bridey and Cordelia；' I said。 'I hope you agree that nothing must be done till they arrive。'
'I wish they were here； ' said Julia。
'You can't take the responsibility alone；' I said； 'everyone else is against you。 Doctor Grant； tell her what you said to me just now。'
'I said that the shock of seeing a priest might well kill him； without that he may survive this attack。 As his medical man I must protest against anything being done to disturb him。'
'Cara？'
'Julia； dear； I know you are thinking for the best； but； you know； Alex was not a religious man。 He scoffed always。 We mustn't take advantage of him； now he's weak； to fort our own consciences。 If Father Mackay es to him when he is unconscious； then he can be buried in the proper way； can he not； Father？'
'I'll go and see how he is； ' said the doctor； leaving us。
'Father Mackay；' I said。 'You know how Lord Marchmain greeted you last time you came； do you think it possible he can have changed now？'
'Thank God； by his grace it is possible。'
'Perhaps；' said Cara； 'you could slip in while he is sleeping； say the words of absolution over him； he would never know。'
'I have seen so many men and women die；' said the priest； 'I never knew them sorry to have me there at the end。'
'But they were Catholics； Lord Marchmain has never been one except in name … at any rate； not for years。 He was a scoffer； Cara said so。'
'Christ came to call； not the righteous； but sinners to repentance。'
The doctor returned。 'There's no change；' he said。
'Now doctor；' said the priest； 'how would I be a shock to anyone？' He turned his bland； innocent； matter…of…fact face first on the doctor； then upon the rest of us。 'Do you know what I want to do？ It is something so small； no show about it。 I don't wear special clothes； you know。 I go just as I am。 He knows the look of me now。 There's nothing alarming。 I just want to ask him if he is sorry for his sins。 I want him to make some little sign of assent； I want him； anyway； not to refuse me； then I want