We thanked our formidable-looking friend for her company and, presenting her with a John o’ Groat’s buckie, bade her farewell.  When she must have been a distance away we accelerated our pace by whistling “Cheer, Boys, Cheer!” one of Charles Russell’s songs.  We could not keep it up for long, as we were not only footsore, but sore in every joint, through friction, and we were both beginning to limp a little when we came to a junction in the roads.  Here it was necessary to inquire about our way, and seeing a farm quite near we went to it and asked a gentleman who was standing in the yard which way we should turn for Inverness and how far it was.  He kindly directed us, and told us that town was nine miles distant, but added, “I am just going there in my ‘machine,’ which will be ready directly, and will be glad to give you a lift.”  This kind offer formed one of the greatest temptations we had during our long journey, as we had already walked thirty miles that day, and were in a pitiable condition, and it was hard to say “No.”  We thanked the gentleman heartily, and explained why we could not accept it, as we had determined to walk all the way to Land’s End, and with an effort both painful and slow we mournfully took our way.  We had only travelled a short distance when he overtook us with a spirited horse and a well-appointed conveyance, bidding us “Good night” as he passed.

We had a painful walk for the next three miles, and it was just at the edge of dark when we called for tea at the “Bogroy Inn.”  We were shown into the parlour by the mistress herself, a pleasant elderly lady, very straight, but very stout, and when my brother complimented her on her personal appearance, she told him that when she first came into that neighbourhood thirty-five years ago she only weighed eleven stone, but six years since she weighed twenty-two stone; now, she rather sorrowfully added, “I only weigh seventeen stone!” She evidently thought she had come down in the world, but she was an ideal landlady of the good old sort, for she sent us some venison in for our tea, the first we had ever tasted, and with eggs and other good things we had a grand feast.  Moreover, she sent her daughter, a prepossessing young lady, to wait upon us, so we felt ourselves highly honoured.

As we were devouring the good things provided we heard some mysterious tappings, which we were unable to locate.  My brother suggested the house might be haunted, but when the young lady entered the room again we discovered that the tappings were outside the house, on the shutters which covered the windows, for every one in the Highlands in those days protected their lower windows with wooden shutters.  The tappings were accompanied by a low whistle, by which we could see the young lady was visibly affected, until finally she left the room rather hurriedly, never to appear again; nor did we hear the tappings any more, and the requiem we sung was: 

  If she be not fair for me,
  What care I how fair she be?