The second was that at the door of a village smithy I saw the back of the Portuguese Jew.

He was talking Gaelic this time--good Gaelic it sounded, and in that knot of idlers he would have passed for the ordinariest kind of gillie.
He did not see me, and I had no desire to give him the chance, for I had an odd feeling that the day might come when it would be good for us to meet as strangers.
That night I put up boldly in the inn at Broadford, where they fed me nobly on fresh sea-trout and I first tasted an excellent liqueur made of honey and whisky.

Next morning I was early afoot, and well before midday was in sight of the narrows of the Kyle, and the two little stone clachans which face each other across the strip of sea.
About two miles from the place at a turn of the road I came upon a farmer's gig, drawn up by the wayside, with the horse cropping the moorland grass.

A man sat on the bank smoking, with his left arm hooked in the reins.

He was an oldish man, with a short, square figure, and a woollen comforter enveloped his throat..