rt-yard looked as if the foot of man had
not been there for years; the doors were carefully locked, and that which
admitted to the hall seemed to have been shut for a length of time, since
the spiders had fairly drawn their webs over the door-way and the
staples. Living sight or sound there was none, until, after much
knocking, Morton heard the little window, through which it was
usual to reconnoitre visitors, open with much caution. The face of
Alison, puckered with some score of wrinkles in addition to those with
which it was furrowed when Morton left Scotland, now presented itself,
enveloped in a _toy_, from under the protection of which some of her grey
tresses had escaped in a manner more picturesque than beautiful, while
her shrill, tremulous voice demanded the cause of the knocking.
"I wish to speak an instant with one Alison Wilson, who resides here,"
said Henry.

"She's no at hame the day," answered Mrs. Wilson, _in propria persona_,
the state of whose headdress, perhaps, inspired her with this direct mode
of denying herself; "and ye are but a mislear'd person to speer for her
in sic a manner. Ye might hae had an M under your belt for Mistress
Wilson of Milnwood."

"I beg pardon," said Morton, internally smiling at finding in old Ailie
the same jealousy of disrespect which she used to exhibit upon former
occasions,--"I beg pardon; I am but a stranger in this country, and have
been so long abroad that I have almost forgotten my own language."
"Did ye come frae foreign parts?" said Ailie; "then maybe ye may hae
heard of a young gentleman of this country that they ca' Henry Morton?"

"I have heard," said Morton, "of such a name in Germany."

"Then bide a wee bit where ye are, friend; or stay,--gang round by the
back o' the house, and ye'll find a laigh door; it's on the latch, for
it's never barred till sunset. Ye 'll open 't,--and tak care ye dinna fa'
ower the tub, for the entry's dark,--and then ye'll turn to the right,
and then ye'll hand straught forward, and then ye'll turn to the right
again, and ye 'll tak heed o' the cellarstairs, and then ye 'll be at the
door o' the little kitchen,--it's a' the kitchen that's at Milnwood
now,--and I'll come down t'ye, and whate'er ye wad say to Mistress
Wilson ye may very safely tell it to me."

A stranger might have had some difficulty, notwithstanding the minuteness
of the directions supplied by Ailie, to pilot himself in safety through
the dark labyrinth of pass