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1I wished to go in and look at him but I had not the courage to knock. I walked away slowly along the sunny side of the
2street, reading all the theatrical advertisements in the shop-windows as I went. I found it strange that neither I nor
3the day seemed in a mourning mood and I felt even annoyed at discovering in myself a sensation of freedom as if I had
4been freed from something by his death. I wondered at this for, as my uncle had said the night before, he had taught me
5a great deal. He had studied in the Irish college in Rome and he had taught me to pronounce Latin properly. He had told
6me stories about the catacombs and about Napoleon Bonaparte, and he had explained to me the meaning of the different
7ceremonies of the Mass and of the different vestments worn by the priest. Sometimes he had amused himself by putting
8difficult questions to me, asking me what one should do in certain circumstances or whether such and such sins were
9mortal or venial or only imperfections. His questions showed me how complex and mysterious were certain institutions of
10the Church which I had always regarded as the simplest acts. The duties of the priest towards the Eucharist and towards
11the secrecy of the confessional seemed so grave to me that I wondered how anybody had ever found in himself the courage
12to undertake them; and I was not surprised when he told me that the fathers of the Church had written books as thick as
13the Post Office Directory and as closely printed as the law notices in the newspaper, elucidating all these intricate
14questions. Often when I thought of this I could make no answer or only a very foolish and halting one upon which he used
15to smile and nod his head twice or thrice. Sometimes he used to put me through the responses of the Mass which he had
16made me learn by heart; and, as I pattered, he used to smile pensively and nod his head, now and then pushing huge
17pinches of snuff up each nostril alternately. When he smiled he used to uncover his big discoloured teeth and let his
18tongue lie upon his lower lip--a habit which had made me feel uneasy in the beginning of our acquaintance before I knew
19him well. As I walked along in the sun I remembered old Cotter's words and tried to remember what had happened
20afterwards in the dream. I remembered that I had noticed long velvet curtains and a swinging lamp of antique fashion. I
21felt that I had been very far away, in some land where the customs were strange--in Persia, I thought.... But I could
22not remember the end of the dream. In the evening my aunt took me with her to visit the house of mourning. It was after
23sunset; but the window-panes of the houses that looked to the west reflected the tawny gold of a great bank of clouds.
24Nannie received us in the hall; and, as it would have been unseemly to have shouted at her, my aunt shook hands with her
25for all. The old woman pointed upwards interrogatively and, on my aunt's nodding, proceeded to toil up the narrow
26staircase before us, her bowed head being scarcely above the level of the banister-rail. At the first landing she
27stopped and beckoned us forward encouragingly towards the open door of the dead-room. My aunt went in and the old woman,
28seeing that I hesitated to enter, began to beckon to me again repeatedly with her hand. I went in on tiptoe. The room
29through the lace end of the blind was suffused with dusky golden light amid which the candles looked like pale thin
30flames. He had been coffined. Nannie gave the lead and we three knelt down at the foot of the bed. I pretended to pray
31but I could not gather my thoughts because the old woman's mutterings distracted me. I noticed how clumsily her skirt
32was hooked at the back and how the heels of her cloth boots were trodden down all to one side. The fancy came to me that
33the old priest was smiling as he lay there in his coffin. But no. When we rose and went up to the head of the bed I saw
34that he was not smiling. There he lay, solemn and copious, vested as for the altar, his large hands loosely retaining a
35chalice. His face was very truculent, grey and massive, with black cavernous nostrils and circled by a scanty white fur.
36There was a heavy odour in the room--the flowers. We blessed ourselves and came away. In the little room downstairs we
37found Eliza seated in his arm-chair in state. I groped my way towards my usual chair in the corner while Nannie went to
38the sideboard and brought out a decanter of sherry and some wine-glasses. She set these on the table and invited us to
39take a little glass of wine. Then, at her sister's bidding, she filled out the sherry into the glasses and passed them
40to us. She pressed me to take some cream crackers also but I declined because I thought I would make too much noise
41eating them. She seemed to be somewhat disappointed at my refusal and went over quietly to the sofa where she sat down
42behind her sister. No one spoke: we all gazed at the empty fireplace. My aunt waited until Eliza sighed and then said:
43"Ah, well, he's gone to a better world." Eliza sighed again and bowed her head in assent. My aunt fingered the stem of
44her wine-glass before sipping a little. "Did he ... peacefully?" she asked. "Oh, quite peacefully, ma'am," said Eliza.
45"You couldn't tell when the breath went out of him. He had a beautiful death, God be praised." "And everything...?"
46"Father O'Rourke was in with him a Tuesday and anointed him and prepared him and all." "He knew then?" "He was quite
47resigned." "He looks quite resigned," said my aunt. "That's what the woman we had in to wash him said. She said he just
48looked as if he was asleep, he looked that peaceful and resigned. No one would think he'd make such a beautiful corpse."
49"Yes, indeed," said my aunt. She sipped a little more from her glass and said: "Well, Miss Flynn, at any rate it must be
50a great comfort for you to know that you did all you could for him. You were both very kind to him, I must say." Eliza
51smoothed her dress over her knees. "Ah, poor James!" she said. "God knows we done all we could, as poor as we are--we
52wouldn't see him want anything while he was in it." Nannie had leaned her head against the sofa-pillow and seemed about
53to fall asleep. "There's poor Nannie," said Eliza, looking at her, "she's wore out. All the work we had, she and me,
54getting in the woman to wash him and then laying him out and then the coffin and then arranging about the Mass in the
55chapel. Only for Father O'Rourke I don't know what we'd have done at all. It was him brought us all them flowers and
56them two candlesticks out of the chapel and wrote out the notice for the Freeman's General and took charge of all the
57papers for the cemetery and poor James's insurance." "Wasn't that good of him?" said my aunt. Eliza closed her eyes and
58shook her head slowly. "Ah, there's no friends like the old friends," she said, "when all is said and done, no friends
59that a body can trust." "Indeed, that's true," said my aunt. "And I'm sure now that he's gone to his eternal reward he
60won't forget you and all your kindness to him." "Ah, poor James!" said Eliza. "He was no great trouble to us. You
61wouldn't hear him in the house any more than now. Still, I know he's gone and all to that...." "It's when it's all over
62that you'll miss him," said my aunt. "I know that," said Eliza. "I won't be bringing him in his cup of beef-tea any
63more, nor you, ma'am, sending him his snuff. Ah, poor James!" She stopped, as if she were communing with the past and
64then said shrewdly: "Mind you, I noticed there was something queer coming over him latterly. Whenever I'd bring in his
65soup to him there I'd find him with his breviary fallen to the floor, lying back in the chair and his mouth open." She
66laid a finger against her nose and frowned: then she continued:
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