The Keys of the Kingdom Page #2

when there's so much

I had to say to you?

I'm sorry, Aunt Polly, but there

was a lot I had to say to Nora too.

- It's been wonderful to be home.

- Take care of yourself.

- Write to me often and study hard.

- Of course I will.

- Francis! You've got the tickets. Come on.

- Be right with you, Angus.

Good-bye, Ned. Thanks for everything.

Take good care of Aunt Polly.

- I'll do that.

- Good-bye, Willie.

Good luck on your med studies,

and write to me.

Francie, you'll get the next heart

I dissect as a valentine.

- [Whistle Blows]

- Good-bye, dear.

Well, now, I'm not going off

to the salt mines in Siberia.

[Whistle Blows]

- Good-bye, Nora.

- Good-bye, Francis.

- Come on. The train will be

starting in just a minute.

- You'll miss the train.

- Is everything there, Angus?

- Yes.

Let me know if you want

anything, Francis! Good-bye!

Bye, Nora. Bye, Aunt Polly.

Bye, Ned.

Bye. Have a nice trip.

- Bye!

- Wait a minute. I forgot my present for Angus.

Something for those cold nights

at Holywell.

Are you sure

you can part with it?

I wouldn't want to deprive you

of your only comfort.

Well, I never thought I'd live to see a Scotsman

throw a bottle of whiskey out a window.

And another one to stand there

and let him do it.

But there was a third Scotsman

there to catch it!

Well, this is a sort of

an empty moment, isn't it?

I don't think I'll ever get used to

not having Francie around.

It'll be a good thing that next year

he's home to stay.

I wouldn't be so sure of that.

Francis may decide to go on

to the seminary after all.

And why not?

He's a fine boy.

It's a fine church.

[Monsignor Reading] "My studies prevented

me from returning home for Christmas...

"as I had planned.

"As always, it was necessary for me

to work twice as hard as the next man...

"to accomplish as much.

And so, another summer had come. "

- [Knocking]

- Come in.

Chisholm, what explanation

have you to offer for your conduct?

- Have I done something wrong, Father?

- Something unforgivable.

You- I've forgotten what, exactly.

Merely an additional example of what seems

to be a general mental disobedience in you.

Just what was it specifically, Father?

During my instruction, I referred

to the one true and epistolic religion.

- He saw fit to question this description.

- Well?

My question was meant

as a question, Father.

I asked whether God set

an exclusive value on creed...

since it was such

an accident of birth.

The answer

to your question is "yes."

Have you done any fishing lately?

I've been thinking

I might try the Glebe Pool, sir.

- There's a big one there.

- There's nothing in the Glebe Pool.

- There's a big one there now, sir.

- Oh! Imaginary.

- If you've no further need of me, Father-

- Thank you, Father.

Sit down, Francis.

Sit down.

You'll be out of here

in another term.

Isn't it about time you made up

your mind about the future?

Yes, I've tried to, sir.

I think of it all the time.

I've been appointed a rector of our San Juan

seminary in Spain beginning next year.

- You'll be leaving Holywell?

- Yes.

I'd hoped that we might

meet at San Juan next fall.

- I think you'd make a good priest.

- Thank you, Father. L-

You seem confused, lad.

You've got worries eating at you.

- Would it help to talk them out?

- Oh, it's just that l-

Well, I know there's

a vocation for me, Father...

but I don't know where to find it.

I can't go on letting Polly and Ned

support me.

How can I ever repay them

for what they've done already?

I'd be no help about the tavern.

Besides, it's almost a year since I've

been home, since last summer's vacation.

In all that time,

so little word from any of them.

And now a letter from Polly...

asking me not to come home this year.

She doesn't say why. Just that it's best,

and she begs me not to come.

I feel there's something wrong,

that I ought to help.

I'm sure that if help is needed

and you can help...

there's none they'd rather

ask for than yours.

How can I be expected

to stay away without a reason?

You cannot say that

there is not a reason.

I had my heart set

on never leaving Holywell.

You had yours set on going home.

What do you say?

Shall we both agree

to let Almighty God have his way?

Hmm?

[Chuckles]

You're in love with Nora,

aren't you, Francis?

- You say you actually saw that fish?

- Oh, yes, Father, I did.

Well, then why aren't we after him?

Eh? Before he's gone.

- Here. Here's a rod.

- Yes, Father.

There.

Well, what are we waiting for?

Thank you.

Keep its head up, MacNabb.

Up. Up!

Ah, careful! Careful now.

Ooh! Watch him, lad.

Watch him.

- Watch him! Oh. Oh, MacNabb.

- You got him, Father.

MacNabb, what a bonny,

bonny fisher you are!

- Oh! Get your net, boy. Get your net.

- Don't worry, Father.

Here he comes, lad.

Get him before he's lost!

[Chuckles] You know, I wouldn't object

to your eating so little...

if it didn't emphasize

the fact that I ate so much.

[Train Whistle Blows]

It was fine of the Lord, I think,

to put all the little fishies in the brooks...

and to send me here to catch them.

[Whistle Continues]

It's a lonely sound, that.

When I was a homesick lad

and heard it in the night...

I'd imagine it was the cry of a lost soul

speeding through eternity.

My imaginings

are less spiritual, Father.

To me it's the Southern Express,

the only thing I have of home.

It whistles for me, and tomorrow night

it will whistle for them.

- Please understand, Father. I've got to go home.

- I do understand, Francis.

If only Nora would write,

if only she-

You know, she objected bitterly

to my coming back to Holywell.

- She thinks that l-

- Yes, yes, I know.

L- Sit down a moment, Francis.

I've got something to tell you.

- You've got bad news. Is it about Nora?

- Aye.

- Why wasn't I told?

- Because it wasn't easy to tell.

Sit down, lad.

How long is it

since you've seen Nora?

It's been over a year now.

I've told you.

You told me she

quarreled with you then...

because she thought you were

being made a priest here despite yourself.

She knew in her heart

that that wasn't so.

I have no way of knowing what

was in Nora's heart, but it seems that...

after you left, she-

Have any of your friends

written to you about her?

I have only one friend, Willie Tulloch.

He's been away at medical school.

- Yes, he's at home now.

- At home?

- Aye, looking after her.

- But-

Nora changed a great deal, Francis,

and all to the bad, I'm afraid.

She became increasingly bitter...

even with those who loved her most.

There seemed little she cared about-

her own character least of all.

- Until finally-

- Father.

What is it you're trying to say?

What's happened?

A baby was born to her

some six weeks ago. A little girl.

She alone knows who the father is.

She will not say.

She's desperately ill.

But it was her express wish

that you were not to be sent for.

I've often wished that

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