him forget his misfortune in having

"What have you been doing to that old chap's grave?" he asked,pointing to the red flag which floated from the top of the stones. 　　"We have tried to make him forget his misfortune in having diedthree hundred years ago," said Mr. Perrott. 　　"It would be awful--to be dead!" ejaculated Evelyn M. 　　"To be dead?" said Hewet. "I don't think it would be awful. 　　It's quite easy to imagine. When you go to bed to-night fold yourhands so--breathe slower and slower--" He lay back with his handsclasped upon his breast, and his eyes shut, "Now," he murmured in aneven monotonous voice, "I shall never, never, never move again."His body, lying flat among them, did for a moment suggest death. 　　"This is a horrible exhibition, Mr. Hewet!" cried Mrs. Thornbury. 　　"More cake for us!" said Arthur. 　　"I assure you there's nothing horrible about it," said Hewet,sitting up and laying hands upon the cake. 　　"It's so natural," he repeated. "People with children should makethem do that exercise every night. . . . Not that I look forwardto being dead.""And when you allude to a grave," said Mr. Thornbury, who spoke almostfor the first time, "have you any authority for calling that ruin a grave? 　　I am quite with you in refusing to accept the common interpretationwhich declares it to be the remains of an Elizabethan watch-tower--any more than I believe that the circular mounds or barrowswhich we find on the top of our English downs were camps. 　　The antiquaries call everything a camp. I am always asking them,Well then, where do you think our ancestors kept their cattle?