She blinked at her husband, and then at the strangers.
"What be askin' o' the Court ?" she said.

Her husband repeated the question.
She gathered her apron to her eyes with an unctuous sob: "Doan't a' know when Maister Robert went! He comes, i' the house 'ere and says, 'Becky, gie us a taste o' the red-top-and where's Jock ?' He was always thinkin' a deal o' my son Jock.

'Jock be gone,' I says, 'and I knows nowt o' his comin' back'-- meanin', I was, that day.

'Good for Jock!' says he, 'and I'm goin' too, Becky, and I knows nowt o' my comin' back.' 'Where be goin', Maister Robert ?' I says.

'To hell, Becky,' says he, and he laughs.