Acting on Mr. Nicolson’s instructions, we proceeded along the beach to Keiss Castle, and ascended to its second storey by means of a rustic ladder.  It was apparently of a more recent date than Buchollie, and a greater portion of it remained standing.  A little to the west of it we saw another and more modern castle, one of the seats of the Duke of Portland, who, we were told, had never yet visited it.  Before reaching the village of Keiss, we came to a small quay, where we stayed a short time watching the fishermen getting their smacks ready before sailing out to sea, and then we adjourned to the village inn, where we were provided with a first-class tea, for which we were quite ready.  The people at the inn evidently did not think their business inconsistent with religion, for on the walls of the apartment where we had our tea were hanging two pictures of a religious character, and a motto “Offer unto God thanksgiving,” and between them a framed advertisement of “Edinburgh Ales”!

After tea we continued our journey until we came to the last house in the village of Keiss, a small cottage on the left-hand side of the road, and here we called to inspect a model of John o’Groat’s house, which had been built by a local stonemason, and exhibited at the great Exhibition in London in 1862.  Its skilful builder became insane soon after he had finished it, and shortly afterwards died.  It was quite a palatial model and much more handsome than its supposed original was ever likely to have been.  It had eight doors with eight flights of steps leading up to them, and above were eight towers with watchmen on them, and inside the house was a table with eight sides made from wood said to have been from the original table in the house of Groat, and procured from one of his descendants.  The model was accompanied by a ground plan and a print of the elevation taken from a photo by a local artist.  There was no charge for admission or for looking at the model, but a donation left with the fatherless family was thankfully received.

We now walked for miles along the seashore over huge sand-hills with fine views of the herring-boats putting out to sea.  We counted fifty-six in one fleet, and the number would have been far greater had not Noss Head intervened to obstruct our view, as many more went out that night from Wick, although the herring season was now nearly over.  We passed Ackergill Tower, the residence of Sir George Dunbar, and about two miles farther on we came to two old castles quite near to each other, which were formerly the strongholds of the Earls of Caithness.  They were named Girnigoe and Sinclair.  Girnigoe was the oldest, and under the ruins of the keep was a dismal dungeon.