lly
upon us, and there had been a hint that we could not have beds;--a party
was expected, who had engaged all the beds. We conjectured this might be
but a pretence, and ordered dinner in the hope that matters would clear
up a little, and we thought they could not have the heart to turn us out
in so heavy a rain if it were possible to lodge us. We had a nice
dinner, yet would have gladly changed our roasted lamb and pickles, and
the gentleman-waiter with his napkin in his pocket, for the more homely
fare of the smoky hut at Loch Ketterine, and the good woman's busy
attentions, with the certainty of a hospitable shelter at night. After
dinner I spoke to the landlord himself, but he was not to be moved: he
could not even provide one bed for me, so nothing was to be done but
either to return to Tarbet with Coleridge, or that William and I should
push on the next stage, to Cairndow. We had an interesting close view
from the windows of the room where we sate, looking across the lake,
which did not differ in appearance, as we saw it here, from a fresh-water
lake. The sloping lawn on which the house stood was prettily scattered
over with trees; but we had seen the place to great advantage at our
first approach, owing to the mists upon the mountains, which had made
them seem exceedingly high, while the strange figures on The Cobbler
appeared and disappeared, like living things; but, as the day cleared we
were disappointed in what was more like the permanent effect of the
scene: the mountains were not so lofty as we had supposed, and the low
grounds not so fertile; yet still it is a very interesting, I may say
beautiful, place.

The rain ceased entirely, so we resolved to go on to Cairndow, and had
the satisfaction of seeing that our landlord had not told us an untruth
concerning the expected company; for just before our departure we saw, on
the opposite side of the vale, a coach with four horses, another
carriage, and two or three men on horseback--a striking procession, as it
moved along between the bare mountain and the lake. Twenty years ago,
perhaps, such a sight had not been seen here except when the Duke of
Argyle, or some other Highland chieftain, might chance to be going with
his family to London or Edinburgh. They had to cross a bridge at the
head of the lake, which we could not see, so, after disappearing about
ten minutes, they drove up to the door--three old ladies, two
waiting-women, and store of men-servant