Mary. And the . . . the child?
Jean. The bairn?
Mary. Nothing! O nothing! I am in trouble, and I know not what I say. And I cannot help you; I cannot help you if I would. He is not here; and I believed he was; and ill . . . ill; and he is not—he is . . . O, I think I shall lose my mind!
Jean. Ay, it’s unco business.
Mary. His father is dead within there . . . dead, I tell you . . . dead!
Jean. It’s mebbe just as weel.
Mary. Well? Well? Has it come to this? O Walter, Walter! come back to me, or I shall die. (Leslie enters, C.)
Leslie. Mary, Mary! I hoped to have spared you this. (To Jean.) What—you? Is he not here?
Jean. I’m aye waitin’ on him.
Leslie. What has become of him? Is he mad? Where is he?