Lyon
of Appleton Hall near that town, and knew Mr. Patten of Bank Hall, who
he said was fast getting "smoked out" of that neighbourhood. We retired
early, and left him in full possession of the coffee-room and its sofa.
At two o'clock in the morning we were wakened by the loud blowing of a
horn, which heralded the approach of the mail-coach, and in another
minute the trampling of horses' feet beneath our window announced its
arrival. We rose hurriedly and rushed to the window, but in the hurry my
brother dashed against a table, and down went something with a smash; on
getting a light we found it was nothing more valuable than a
water-bottle and glass, the broken pieces of which we carefully
collected together, sopping up the water as best we could. We were in
time to see our friend off on the coach, with three horses and an
enormous light in front, which travelled from Thurso to Helmsdale, a
distance of fifty-eight miles, at the rate of eight miles per hour.
(_Distance walked twenty-one and a half miles._)
_Wednesday, September 20th._
We rose early, and while waiting for our breakfast talked with an old
habitue of the hotel, who, after drawing our attention to the weather,
which had now changed for the worse, told us that the building of the
new pier, as he called it, at Wick had been in progress for seven or
eight years, but the sea there was the stormiest in Britain, and when
the wind came one way the waves washed the pier down again, so that it
was now no bigger than it was two years ago.
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