She looked at him in a vague sort of way and nodded. "That's me," said she. "Is it pay for the cart you're after? If that's it, I must walk."
"Had you a son, Mrs. McLeish?" said the man.
"Ay," said she, and her face brightened a little.
"And what was his name?"
"Andy," was the answer.
"And his calling?"
"A sailorman."
"Well, then," said the traveller in the waterproof, "there is no doubt that you are the person I came here to see. I was told I should find you here, and here you are. I may as well tell you at once, Mrs. McLeish, that your son is dead."
"That is no news," she answered. "I knew that he must be dead."
"But I didn't come here only to tell you that. There is money coming to you through him—enough to make you comfortable for the rest of your life."