These vain excursions--especially the three to the western islands--consumed time terribly.

It was more than two months from the day when we had left Darrock Hall before we found ourselves up at the very top of Scotland at last, driving into a considerable sea-side town, with a harbor attached to it.

Thus far our journey had led to no results, and I began to despair of success.

As for Mr.Dark, he never got to the end of his sweet temper and his wonderful patience.
"You don't know how to wait, William," was his constant remark whenever he heard me complaining.

"I do." We drove into the town toward evening in a modest little gig, and put up, according to our usual custom, at one of the inferior inns.
"We must begin at the bottom," Mr.Dark used to say.