‘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 comfort our own consciences. If Father Mackay comes 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.’