Lerwick seemed a
weird-looking place in the moonlight, and we turned many corners on our
way to our lodgings, and were beginning to wonder how we should find our
way out again, when our companion stopped suddenly before a private
boarding-house, the door of which was at once opened by the mistress. We
thanked the gentleman for his kind introduction, and as we entered the
house the lady explained that it was her custom to wait up for the
arrival of the _St. Magnus_. We found the fire burning and the kettle
boiling, and the cup that cheers was soon on the table with the usual
accompaniments, which were quickly disposed of. We were then ushered to
our apartments--a bedroom and sitting or dining-room combined, clean
and comfortable, but everything seemed to be moving like the ship we had
just left. Once in bed, however, we were soon claimed by the God of
Slumber, sleep, and dreams--our old friend Morpheus.
_Sunday, September 10th._
In the morning we attended the English Episcopalian Church, and, after
service, which was rather of a high church character, we walked into the
country until we came in sight of the rough square tower of Scalloway
Castle, and on our return we inspected the ruins of a Pictish castle,
the first of the kind we had seen, although we were destined to see many
others in the course of our journey.
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