196 A REVEREND-LOOKING MAN. CHAP. xiv. 



" Loch More ! who has not heard of the loch ? 

 Yonder it is, tossing lightly its cold blue waves. I see 

 the lofty two-arched bridge crossing the river that flows 

 out of it to join the Thurso on its way to the sea. 

 Acharynie lies yonder. An auld carle is moving over 

 the hill, keeping fast by the track road, and that road 

 shall be mine too by and by. 



" But after leaving the moor, and seeing a farm-house 

 near at hand, I stepped aside to ask the nearest way. I 

 reached the barn-door, and found an old reverend-looking 

 man threshing bere. 



"'Please,' said I, 'how far is it to Dalemore, and 

 which is the best road ?' ' Eh ? Are ye gaun to Dale- 

 more?' 'Yes.' 'And where cam ye frae?' 'Dun- 

 beath.' ' Did ye come frae Dunbeath the day ? 

 'Yes.' 'An' where are ye gaun tae?' 'Thurso.' 

 ' Are ye gaun to Thurso ? ' * Yes.' ' And did ye wide 

 the river?' 'Yes.' 'An' are ye gaun to wide it 

 again ? ' ' Please tell me the best road to Dalemore.' 

 ' Hae ye snuff ? ' ' No, I am sorry I have no snuff.' 

 ' Oo ay ! Haud doon the strath ; doon by the river ; 

 strecht doon ! ' ' How many miles is it to Dalemore ? ' 

 ' Four miles ; ay, just four miles. ' " 



" Candid man ! Oh, the want of sneeshin ! No 

 magic like a snuff-box to get to the heart of a Hieland- 

 man ! 



" I think it is old Daniel Defoe who lays it down as 

 a truth, that a man should never act contrary to his 

 judgment and his conviction as to what is right, more 

 especially if he has a mysterious misgiving about the 



