'Yes,' said Mort, and then remembered. 'Only I think I left them in the shop. Dad, we left the sack in the clothes shop!'
'It'll be shut,' said Lezek. 'Shops don't open on Hogswatch Day. You'll have to go back the day after tomorrow – well, tomorrow now.'
IT is OF LITTLE ACCOUNT, said Death. WE WILL LEAVE NOW. NO DOUBT I WILL HAVE BUSINESS HERE SOON ENOUGH.
'I hope you'll be able to drop in and see us soon,' said Lezek. He seemed to be struggling with his thoughts.
'I'm not sure that will be a good idea,' said Mort.
'Well, goodbye, lad,' said Lezek. 'You're to do what you're told, you understand? And – excuse me, sir, do you have a son?'
Death looked rather taken aback.
NO, he said, I HAVE NO SONS.
'I'll just have a last word with my boy, if you've no objection.'
THEN I WILL GO AND SEE TO THE HORSE, said Death, with more than normal tact.
Lezek put his arm around his son's shoulders, with some difficulty in view of their difference in height, and gently propelled him across the square.
'Mort, you know your uncle Hemesh told me about this prenticing business?' he whispered.
'Yes?'
'Well, he told me something else,' the old man confided. 'He said it's not unknown for an apprentice to inherit his master's business. What do you think of that, then?'
'Uh. I'm not sure,' said Mort.
'It's worth thinking about,' said Lezek.
'I am thinking about it, father.'
'Many a young lad has started out that way, Hemesh said. He makes himself useful, earns his master's confidence, and, well, if there's any daughters in the house . . . did Mr, er, Mr say anything about daughters?'
'Mr who?' said Mort.
'Mr . . . your new master.'
'Oh. Him. No. No, I don't think so,' said Mort slowly. 'I don't think he's the marrying type.'
'Many a keen young man owes his advancement to his nuptials,' said Lezek.
'He does?'
'Mort, I don't think you're really listening.'
'What?'
Lezek came to a halt on the frosty cobbles and spun the boy around to face him.
'You're really going to have to do better than this,' he said. 'Don't you understand, boy? If you're going to amount to anything in this world then you've got to listen. I'm your father telling you these things.'
Mort looked down at his father's face. He wanted to say a lot of things: he wanted to say how much he loved him, how worried he was; he wanted to ask what his father really thought he'd just seen and heard. He wanted to say that he felt as though he stepped on a molehill and found that it was really a volcano. He wanted to ask what 'nuptials' meant.
What he actually said was, 'Yes. Thank you. I'd better be going. I'll try and write you a letter.'
'There's bound to be someone passing who can read it to us,' said Lezek. 'Goodbye, Mort.' He blew his nose.