As he approached, he observed the good dame of the house herself, seated by the door; she had hitherto been concealed from him by a huge alder-bush.
"Good evening, Mother," said the traveller. "Your name is Mistress Maclure?"
"Elizabeth Maclure, sir, a poor widow," was the reply.
"Can you lodge a stranger for a night?"
"I can, sir, if he will be pleased with the widow's cake and the widow's cruse."
"I have been a soldier, good dame," answered Morton, "and nothing can come amiss to me in the way of entertainment."
"A sodger, sir?" said the old woman, with a sigh,—"God send ye a better trade!"
"It is believed to be an honourable profession, my good dame; I hope you do not think the worse of me for having belonged to it?"
"I judge no one, sir," replied the woman, "and your voice sounds like that of a civil gentleman; but I hae witnessed sae muckle ill wi' sodgering in this puir land that I am e'en content that I can see nae mair o't wi' these sightless organs."
As she spoke thus, Morton observed that she was blind.