Chapter VI

His Uncle William was in the kitchen when he descended the stairs from the attic.

"Mr. McGonigal was here this morning after you went up to Belfast," he said, as John entered the kitchen. "Everything's settled up. Your Uncle Matthew left you £180 and his books. It's more nor I imagined he had, though I knew well he hardly spent a copper on himself, beyond the books he bought. He was inclined to be an extravagant man like the rest of us before that bother he got into in Belfast over the head of the oul' Queen, but he changed greatly after. The money'll be useful to you, boy, when you start off in life!"

"I'll come into the shop with you, Uncle William," John said, glancing towards the scullery where his mother was. "I want to have a word or two with you!"

"Very good," Uncle William replied, leading the way into the shop.

They sat down together in the little counting-house while John told his Uncle of his desire to go away from home.

"And where in the earthly world do you want to go to?" Uncle William demanded.

"Anywhere. London, mebbe! I'm near in the mind to go to America. Mebbe, I'll just travel the world!"

"A hundred and eighty pounds'll not carry you far," Uncle William exclaimed.

"It'll take me a good piece of the way, and if I can't earn enough to take me the rest of it, sure, what good am I?"

Uncle William shrugged his shoulders. "You must do as you please, I suppose, but I'll miss you sore when you do go. It'll be poor pleasure for me to live on here, with you gone and your Uncle Matthew dead!"

"I'll come back every now and then to see you," John promised. "I'm not going to cut myself off from you altogether. You know that rightly. I just want to see a bit of the world. I ... I want to find out things!"

"What things, John?"

"Oh ... everything! Whatever there is to find out!"

"I sometimes think," said Uncle William, "you can find out all there is to find out at home, if you have enough gumption in you to find out anything at all. Have you told your ma yet?"

John shook his head.

"It'll want a bit of telling," Uncle William prophesied.

"I daresay, but she'll have plenty of time to get used to it. I'm not going this minute. I'm going to try and do some writing at home first, 'til I get my hand in. Then when I think I know something about the job, I'll go and see what I can make out of it."

Uncle William sat in silence for a few moments, tapping noiselessly on the desk with his fingers.

"It's a pity you've no notion of the grocery," he said. "This shop'll be yours one of these days!"

"I haven't any fancy for it," John replied.

"I know you haven't. It's a pity all the same. I suppose, when I'm dead, you'll sell the shop!"

"You're in no notion of dying yet awhile, Uncle William. A hearty man like you'll outlive us all!"

"Mebbe, but that's not the point, John. The MacDermotts have owned this shop a powerful while, as your ma tells you many's a time. When I'm dead, you'll be the last of us ... and you'll want to give up the shop. That's what I think's a pity. I'm with your ma over that. I suppose, though, the whole history of the world is just one record of change and alteration, and it's no use complaining. The shop'll have to go, and the MacDermotts, too!..." He did not speak for a few moments, and then, in a brisker tone, he said, "Mebbe, one of the assistants'll buy it from you. Henry Blackwood has money saved, I know, and by the time you want to sell it, he'll mebbe have a good bit past him. I'll drop a wee hint to him that you'll be wanting to sell, so's to prepare him!"

"Very well, Uncle!" John said.

"If you do sell the shop, make whoever buys it change the name over the door. If the MacDermott family is not to be in control of it, then I'd like well for the name to be painted out altogether and the new name put in its place. I'd hate to think of anyone pretending the MacDermotts was still here, carrying on their old trade, and them mebbe not giving as good value as we gave. The MacDermotts have queer pride, John!"

"I know they have, Uncle William. I have, too!"

"And they wouldn't lie content in their graves if they thought their names was associated with bad value!"

"You're taking it for granted, Uncle, I'll want to sell the shop. Mebbe, I won't. I'll mebbe not be good at anything else but the grocery. I'm talking big now about writing books, but who knows whether I'll ever write one!"

"Oh, you'll write one, John. You'll write plenty. You'll do it because you want to do it. You've got your da's nature. When he wanted a thing, he got it, no matter who had it!"

"There was one thing he wanted, Uncle William, and wanted bad, but couldn't get!"

"What was that, son?" Uncle William demanded.

"He wanted to live, but he wasn't let," John answered.

Uncle William considered for a few moments. "Of course," he said, "there's some things that even a MacDermott can't do!"