The Foolish Lovers | Page 6

window and interfering with
the business of a respectable merchant, but also for offering a frivolous
excuse for his behaviour. Uncle Matthew had said that he broke the
window as a protest against a counterjumper's traffic in a nation's grief.
"I loved the Queen, sir," he said, "and I couldn't bear to see her death
treated like that!" This was more than the Magistrates could endure,
and the Resident Magistrate made an impatient gesture and said, "Tch,
tch, tch!" with his tongue against his palate. He went on to say that
Uncle Matthew's loyalty to the Throne was very touching, very
touching, indeed, especially in these days when a lot of people seemed
to have very little respect for the Royal Family. He thought that his
brother-magistrates would agree with him. ("Hear, hear!" and "Oh, yes,
yes!" and an "Ulster was always noted for its loyalty to the Queen!"
from his brother-magistrates.) But all the same, there had to be
moderation and reason in everything. It would never do if people were
to go about the country breaking other people's windows in the name of
patriotism. It was bad enough to have a pack of Nationalists and Papists
going about the country, singing disloyal songs and terrorising
peaceable, lawabiding loyalists, without members of respected
Protestant and Unionist families like the prisoner ... for Uncle Matthew
was in the dock of the Custody Court and had spent the night in a cell ...
imitating their behaviour in the name of loyalty. He had taken into the
consideration the fact that the prisoner had acted from the best motives
and not from any feeling of disaffection to the Throne, and also the fact
that he belongs to a respectable family, and so he would not send him
to gaol. He gave him the option of paying a fine, together with costs
and the bill for repairing the window, or of going to prison for one

calendar month; and he warned the public that any other person who
broke a window, however loyal he might be, would be sent to gaol
without the option of a fine.
Uncle Matthew had turned to where Uncle William was sitting with the
family solicitor in the well of the court, and Uncle William had nodded
his head comfortingly. Then the warder had opened the door in the side
of the dock, and Uncle Matthew had stepped out of the place of shame
into the company of the general public. The solicitor had attended to
the payment of the fine and the cost of repairing the fractured glass, and
then Uncle William had led Uncle Matthew away. Someone had
tittered at Uncle Matthew as they passed up the steps of the court
towards the door, and Uncle William, disregarding the fact that he was
in a court of law, had turned on him very fiercely, and had said "Damn
your sowl!..." but a policeman, saying "S-s-sh!", had bustled him out of
the court before he could complete his threat. And an old woman, with
a shawl happed about her head, had gazed after Uncle Matthew and
said, "The poor creature! Sure, he's not right!"
The arrest and trial of Uncle Matthew had created a great scandal in
Ballyards, and responsible people went about saying that he had always
been "quare" and was getting "quarer." Willie Logan's father had even
talked of the asylum. Whose windows, he demanded, were safe when, a
fellow like that was let loose on the town? Uncle William had gone to
see Mr. Logan ... no one knew quite what he said to that merchant ...
but it was evident ever after that he had accepted Uncle William's
advice to keep a civil tongue in his head. The Reverend Mr.
McCaughan, who was manager of the Ballyards National School, went
specially to the house of Mr. Cairnduff, the headmaster of the school,
to consult him on the subject. He said that something would have to be
done about the matter. The MacDermotts, he said, were a
highly-respected family ... a MacDermott had been an elder of the
church for generations past... and he would be very sorry, very sorry,
indeed to do anything to upset them, but it was neither right nor
reasonable to expect parents to rest content while their children were
taught their lessons by a man who was both queer in his manner and
very nearly a criminal ... for after all, he had spent a night in a

prison-cell and had stood in the dock where thieves and forgers and
wife-beaters and even murderers had stood!
Mr. Cairnduff was in complete agreement with Mr. McCaughan. He,
too, had the greatest respect for the MacDermotts ... no man could help
having respect for them ... and he might add that he had