that I was exceedingly glad to reach an inn within four miles of
Inverness, where I promised myself comfortable lodgings for the
night. It was a rather large, but comfortless-looking house,
evidently concentrating all its entertainment for travellers in the
tap-room. After considerable hesitation, the landlady consented to
give me bed and board; and directed "the lassie" to make a fire for
me in a large and very respectable room on the second floor. I soon
began to feel quite at home by its side. My boots had leaked on the
way and my feet were very wet and cold; and it was with a pleasant
sense of comfort that I changed stockings, and warmed myself at the
ruddy grate, while the storm seemed to increase without. After
waiting about an hour for tea, I heard the lassie's heavy footstep
on the stairs; a knock--the door opens--now for the tray and the
steaming tea-pot, and happy vision of bread, oatcake and Scotch
_scones_! Alas! what a falling-off was there from this delicious
expectation! The lassie had brought a severe and peremptory message
from the master, who had just returned home. And she delivered it
commiseratingly but decidedly. She was to tell me from him that
there was nothing in the house to set before me; that the fair the
day before had eaten out the whole stock of his provisions; in
short, that I was to take my staff and walk on to Inverness. It was
in vain that I remonstrated, pleaded and urged wet feet, the
darkness, the wind and rain. "It is so," said the lassie, "and
can't be otherwise." She tried to encourage me to the journey by
shortening the distance by half its actual miles, saying it was only
two, when it was full four, and they of the longest kind. So I went
out into the night in my wet clothes, and put the best face and foot
to the head-wind and rain that I could bring to bear against them.
Both were strong, beating and drenching; and it was so dark that I
could hardly see the road. In the course of half an hour, I made