of a beautiful bay upon the Scottish coast. The
weather was now more mild. The snow, which had been for some time waning,
had given way entirely under the fresh gale of the preceding night. The
more distant hills, indeed, retained their snowy mantle, but all the open
country was cleared, unless where a few white patches indicated that it
had been drifted to an uncommon depth. Even under its wintry appearance
the shore was highly interesting. The line of sea-coast, with all its
varied curves, indentures, and embayments, swept away from the sight on
either hand, in that varied, intricate, yet graceful and easy line which
the eye loves so well to pursue. And it was no less relieved and varied
in elevation than in outline by the different forms of the shore, the
beach in some places being edged by steep rocks, and in others rising
smoothly from the sands in easy and swelling slopes. Buildings of
different kinds caught and reflected the wintry sunbeams of a December
morning, and the woods, though now leafless, gave relief and variety to
the landscape. Brown felt that lively and awakening interest which taste
and sensibility always derive from the beauties of nature when opening
suddenly to the eye after the dulness and gloom of a night voyage.
Perhaps--for who can presume to analyse that inexplicable feeling which
binds the person born in a mountainous country to, his native
hills--perhaps some early associations, retaining their effect long after
the cause was forgotten, mingled in the feelings of pleasure with which
he regarded the scene before him.

'And what,' said Brown to the boatman, 'is the name of that fine cape
that stretches into the sea with its sloping banks and hillocks of wood,
and forms the right side of the bay?'

'Warroch Point,' answered the lad.

'And that old castle, my friend, with the modern house situated just
beneath it? It seems at this distance a very large building.'

'That's the Auld Place, sir; and that's the New Place below it. We'll
land you there if you like.'

'I should like it of all things. I must visit that ruin before I continue
my journey.'

'Ay, it's a queer auld bit,' said the fisherman; 'and that highest tower
is a gude landmark as far as Ramsay in Man and the Point of Ayr; there
was muckle fighting about the place lang syne.'

Brown would have inquired into farther particulars, but a fisherman is
seldom an antiquary. His boatman's local knowledge was summed up in