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be free in September。 The nearer our marriage got； the more wistfully； I noticed； Julia spoke of it； war was growing nearer； too … we neither of us doubted that … but Julia's tender； remote； it sometimes seemed； desperate longing did not e from any uncertainty outside herself； it suddenly darkened； too； into brief accesses of hate when she seemed to throw herself against the restraints of her love for me like a caged animal against the bars。
I was summoned to the War Office； interviewed； and put on a list in case of emergency； Cordelia also； on another list； lists were being part of our lives once more； as they had been at school。 Everything was being got ready for the ing 'Emergency'。 No one in that dark office spoke the word 'war'； it was taboo； we should be called for if there was 'an emergency' … not in case of strife； an act of human will； nothing so clear and simple as wrath or retribution； an emergency… something ing out of the waters； a monster with sightless face and thrashing tail thrown up from the depths。
Lord Marchmain took little interest in events outside his own room； we took him the papers daily and made the attempt to read to him； but he turned his head on the pillows and with his eyes followed the intricate patterns about him。 'Shall I go on？' 'Please do if it's not boring you。' But he was not listening； occasionally at a familiar name he would whisper： 'Irwin。。。I knew him … a mediocre fellow'； occasionally some remote ment： 'Czechs make good coachmen； nothing else'； but his mind was far from world affairs； it was there； on the spot； turned in on himself； he had no strength for any other war than his own solitary struggle to keep alive。
I said to the doctor； who was with us daily。 'He's got a wonderful will to live； hasn't he？'
'Would you put it like that？ I should say a great fear of death。'
'Is there a difference？'
'Oh dear； yes。 He doesn't derive any strength from his fear； you know。 It's wearing him out。'
Next to death； perhaps because they are like death； he feared darkness and loneliness。 He liked to have us in his room and the lights burnt all night among the gilt figures； he did not wish us to speak much； but he talked himself； so quietly that we often could not hear him； he talked； I think； because his was the only voice he could trust； when it assured him that he was still alive； what he said was not for us； nor for any ears but his own。
'Better today。 Better today。 I can see now； in the er of the fireplace； where the mandarin is holding his gold bell and the crooked tree is in flower below his feet； where yesterday I was confused and took the little tower for another man。 Soon I shall see the bridge and the three storks and know where the path leads over the hill。
'Better tomorrow。 We live long in our family and marry late。 Seventy…three is no great age。 Aunt Julia； my father's aunt； lived to be eighty…eight； born and died here； never married； saw the fire on beacon hill for the battle of Trafalgar； always called it 〃the New House〃； that was 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；