I took off my bonnet, and made an awkward bow.

"Madam, I am on my way to Edinburgh," I stammered, for I was mortally
ill at ease with women. "I am uncertain of the road in this weather,
and come to beg direction."

"You left the road three miles back," she said.

"But I am for crossing the moors," I said.

She pushed back her hood and looked at me with laughing eyes, I saw how
dark those eyes were, and how raven black her wandering curls of hair.

"You have come to the right place," she cried. "I can direct you as
well as any Jock or Sandy about the town. Where are you going to?"

I said Kirknewton for my night's lodging.

"Then march to the right, up by yon planting, till you come to the Howe
Burn. Follow it to the top, and cross the hill above its well-head. The
wind is blowing from the east, so keep it on your right cheek. That
will bring you to the springs of the Leith Water, and in an hour or two
from there you will be back on the highroad."

She used a manner of speech foreign to our parts, but very soft and
pleasant in the ear. I thanked her, clapped on my dripping bonnet, and
made for the dykes beyond the garden. Once I looked back, but she had
no further interest in me. In the mist I could see her peering once
more skyward, and through the drone of the deluge came an echo of her