"Peggy, my bonny bird," continued the hostess, addressing a little girl of twelve years old, who had by this time appeared, "tak the gentleman's horse to the stable, and slack his girths, and tak aff the bridle, and shake down a lock o' hay before him, till the dragoons come back.--Come this way, sir," she continued; "ye'll find my house clean, though it's a puir ane." Morton followed her into the cottage accordingly. CHAPTER XXI. Then out and spake the auld mother, And fast her tears did fa "Ye wadna be warn'd, my son Johnie, Frae the hunting to bide awa!" Old Ballad. When he entered the cottage, Morton perceived that the old hostess had spoken truth. The inside of the hut belied its outward appearance, and was neat, and even comfortable, especially the inner apartment, in which the hostess informed her guest that he was to sup and sleep. Refreshments were placed before him such as the little inn afforded; and though he had small occasion for them, he accepted the offer, as the means of maintaining some discourse with the landlady. Notwithstanding her blindness, she was assiduous in her attendance, and seemed, by a sort of instinct, to find her way to what she wanted. "Have you no one but this pretty little girl to assist you in waiting on your guests?" was the natural question. "None, sir," replied his old hostess; "I dwell alone, like the widow of Zarephath. Few guests come to this puir place, and I haena custom eneugh to hire servants. I had anes twa fine sons that lookit after a' thing. --But God gives and takes away,--His name be praised!" she continued, turning her clouded eyes towards Heaven.--"I was anes better off, that is, waridly speaking, even since I lost them; but that was before this last change." "Indeed!" said Morton; "and yet you are a Presbyterian, my good mother?" "I am, sir; praised be the light that showed me the right way," replied the landlady. "Then I should have thought," continued the guest, the Revolution would have brought you nothing but good." "If," said the old woman, "it has brought the land gude, and freedom of worship to tender consciences, it's little matter what it has brought to a puir blind worm like me." "Still," replied Morton, "I cannot see how it could possibly injure you." "It's a lang story, sir," answered his hostess, with a sigh. "But ae night, sax weeks or thereby afore Bothwell Brigg, a young gentleman stopped at this puir cottage, stiff and bloody with wounds, pale and dune out wi' riding, and his horse sae weary he couldna drag ae foot after the other, and his foes were close ahint him, and he was ane o' our enemies. What could I do, sir? You that's a sodger will think me but a silly auld wife; but I fed him, and relieved him, and keepit him hidden till the pursuit was ower." "And who," said Morton, "dares disapprove of your having done so?"