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t in the progress he had made in mine host's familiarity, asked, though with the hesitation proper to one who puts a question on the answer to which rests something of importance, "Whether Blane knew a woman in that neighbourhood called Elizabeth Maclure?" "Whether I ken Bessie Maclure?" answered the landlord, with a landlord's laugh,--"How can I but ken my ain wife's (haly be her rest!)--my ain wife's first gudeman's sister, Bessie Maclure? An honest wife she is, but sair she's been trysted wi' misfortunes,--the loss o' twa decent lads o' sons, in the time o' the persecution, as they ca' it nowadays; and doucely and decently she has borne her burden, blaming nane and condemning nane. If there's an honest woman in the world, it's Bessie Maclure. And to lose her twa sons, as I was saying, and to hae dragoons clinked down on her for a month bypast,--for, be Whig or Tory uppermost, they aye quarter thae loons on victuallers,--to lose, as I was saying--" "This woman keeps an inn, then?" interrupted Morton. "A public, in a puir way," replied Blane, looking round at his own superior accommodations,--"a sour browst o' sma' ale that she sells to folk that are over drouthy wi' travel to be nice; but naething to ca' a stirring trade or a thriving changehouse." "Can you get me a guide there?" said Morton. "Your honour will rest here a' the night? Ye'll hardly get accommodation at Bessie's," said Niel, whose regard for his deceased wife's relative by no means extended to sending company from his own house to hers. "There is a friend," answered Morton, "whom I am to meet with there, and I only called here to take a stirrup-cup and inquire the way." "Your honour had better," answerd the landlord, with the perseverance of his calling, "send some ane to warn your friend to come on here." "I tell you, landlord," answered Morton, impatiently, "that will not serve my purpose; I must go straight to this woman Maclure's house, and I desire you to find me a guide." "Aweel, sir, ye'll choose for yoursell, to be sure," said Niel Blane, somewhat disconcerted; "but deil a guide ye'll need if ye gae doun the water for twa mile or sae, as gin ye were bound for Milnwoodhouse, and then tak the first broken disjasked-looking road that makes for the hills,--ye'll ken 't by a broken ash-tree that stands at the side o' a burn just where the roads meet; and then travel out the path,--ye canna miss Widow Maclure's public, for deil anothe
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