Not a soul was in sight as Mag returned; but many a pair of eyes watched her from behind curtained windows, and expressions of sympathy were common even though her relations with Walker were common knowledge in the village, and had been censured by everyone in consequence for her misdeeds.  They all knew why Mag had “opened out” on Walker that morning and the reason she had been set aside for another who pleased his fancy.

Tam Granger and his wife had recently come into the district from a neighboring village, where Leebie’s name had been coupled with a local draper’s or packman’s in some scandal.  Black Jock had soon got into contact with them and finding them willing tools he had deserted Sanny and Mag Robertson.  All the contracts were taken from Sanny and given to Tam, and it was this that had made Mag watch for Walker coming in for his breakfast, determined to have it out with him, with the result which is chronicled above.

The encounter between Mag and Black Jock was the talk of the village.  Mag was mad with rage, and having washed her bruised face, she ramped out and in all day, washing the floor, clattering among dishes and scouring pots and pans.  She was working off her anger and swearing and threatening, until most of the other women in the row grew afraid, and kept as much as possible within doors the rest of the day.

When the men returned from work the whole episode had to be gone through and described to them by their wives.

When Sanny Robertson came home that afternoon, he found Mag with swollen lips and half closed eyes and a face bruised all over.  He did not have to wait long for explanations.  She railed and swore and raged until one wondered from where she got all the energy, and all the strength.  It was amazing why she did not collapse altogether.

Sanny sat quietly listening without comment, then washed himself and sat smoking by the fire for a time.  He was a quiet go-as-you-please man, not given much to talking.  But finally he could stand it no longer, and he took hold of his wife by the shoulder, saying.

“Noo, jist you listen, an’ for God’s sake shut your mooth.  It’ll no dae a bit o’ guid ravin’ like that.  We are in a bigger hole noo than ever we hae been in a’ oor lives, an’ mind that.  I’ve made up my mind what I am gaun tae dae.  Sae listen.  I’m gaun straucht awa’ ower to Rundell’s the morn, at the time when Mr. Rundell gangs hame frae the office for his breakfast, an’ I’ll tell him everything aboot the contracts.  Then I’m gaun awa’ doon the country tae look for work, an’ I’ll flit oot o’ here an’ tae hell wi’t.  Noo shut up an’ gae me peace and quateness for an hoor, so that I can think oot things.  You get awa’ tae bed.  Maybe by richt I should gang doon tae Black Jock an’ stap a knife in him—­if for nae ither thing than the way he has treated you the day, I should dae that.  But I’m no gaun to dae it the noo.  I’m no’ blaming you for what has happened;