Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Kidnapped

THROUGH   THE   ISLE   OF   MULL.                    139
set me foolish; so it was small wonder if I went out of
my road as often as I stayed in it.
At last, about eight at night, and already very
weary, I came to a lone house, where I asked admit-
tance, and was refused, until I bethought me of the
power of money in so poor a country, and held up one
of my guineas in my finger and thumb. Thereupon,
the man of the house, who had hitherto pretended to
have no English, and driven me from his door by
signals, suddenly began to speak as clearly as was need-
ful, and agreed for five shillings to give me a night's
lodging and guide me the next day to Torosay.
I slept uneasily that night, fearing I should be
robbed; but I might have spared myself the pain; for
my host was no robber, only miserably poor and a great
cheat. He was not alone in his poverty; for the next
morning, we must go five miles about to the house of
what he called a rich man to have one of my guineas
changed. This was perhaps a rich man for Mull; he
would have scarce been thought so in the south; for it
took ail he had, the whole house was turned upside
down, and a neighbour brought under contribution,
before he could scrape together twenty shillings in
silver. The odd shilling he kept for himself, protesting
he could ill afford to have so great a sum of money lying
" locked up." For all that he was very courteous and well
spoken, made us both sit down with his family to dinner,
and brewed punch in a fine china bowl, over which my
rascal guide grew so merry that he refused to start.