t interesting amusement of all to the London visitor--get up to an
open window and watch the great dark waves come rolling in, to break
with a noise like thunder, and deluge the rock with foam right up to the
castle walls. Every now and then a huge roller would dash right into
the bath cave, when there would be quite an explosion, and Max listened
with a feeling of awe to the escape of the confined air, and wondered
whether it would be possible for the place to be undermined, and the
whole rock swept away.

"What!" cried Kenneth, when he broached the idea. "Nonsense! It has
gone on like that for thousands of years. It's jolly! Next time we
bathe, there won't be a scrap of weed left. The place will be regularly
scoured out, and the bottom covered with soft shelly sand."

The outlook was most dismal. All the glorious colours of sea, sky, and
mountain were blotted out, and it was only at intervals, when the
drifting rain-clouds lifted a little, that a glimpse could be seen of
some island out at sea.

Boom, rush, roar. The wind whistled and yelled as it rattled past the
windows, and at times the violence was so great that Max turned an
inquiring look at his young host, as if to ask whether there was any
danger.

"Like a sail to-day?" asked the latter.

"Sail? with the sea like this!"

"Well, I don't think I should like it," said Kenneth, laughing. "Tavvy
says the boat was going adrift out in the bay, but he caught her in
time. It's quite rough even there. Here, let's put on waterproofs, and
go out."

"Oh no. There: see how it rains."

"Yes, that's pretty tidy," said Kenneth, as the air was literally
blackened by the tremendous torrent that fell. "I say, Max, this is the
sort of day to see the Mare's Tail. My word! there's some water coming
down now."

"It must be terrible."

"Terrible? Nonsense! Here, come into the kitchen and let's see if
there's any one there."

Max wondered, but followed his young host to the kitchen, expecting to
see no one but the maids, and perhaps Grant, the severe butler; but,
when they reached the great stone-floored place, there were Tavish, Long
Shon, and Scoodrach, the two latter seated at a table, and the great
forester toasting the back of his legs at the fire, and sending up a
cloud of steam, an example followed by the three dogs, who sent up
smaller clouds of their own.

There was a chorus, or rather a trio of good-mornings, and a series of
rappings from dogs