Searching for Sutherland’s hidden castle

I had asked in a furniture shop one day the name of a folding tea-table, and had been told that it was a "Sutherland table." "Why Sutherland?" I had idly wondered at the moment. In my sleep the memory of the word recurred, but it was no longer associated with the idea of the table, but with the map of Northern Scotland, and the place of Sutherland in it, and, as so often happens in a dream, no sooner had I thought of the name than I found myself travelling thither.

I was in a large railway carriage arranged not at all on the plan of our own carriages, but more as I imagine an American car to be arranged. I noted the curious sleeping-berths that looked foreign and unfamiliar to me. It seemed that the journey was taking us to the extreme north of Scotland. An Italian woman of the poorer class was travelling with a party of friends, some of them foreigners, one of whom talked to me in English. He explained to me that their personal luggage and all their household furniture had been sent on by a cheaper conveyance. I saw from their shapes that the bundles that the Italian woman had with her, both on and under the seat, were evidently the cooking utensils from which probably she could not bear to be parted ; these were tied up in large handkerchiefs. She had no change of clothes or any travelling comforts with her, and the thought crossed my mind that I too must be rather travel-stained, for the journey had already lasted some days and nights. Being tired, my thoughts flew longingly on to my destination . . . and lo ! I had arrived there! ... I found myself sitting on the lawn outside a large house at a tea-table round which my hosts and their numerous guests were gathered and were talking together. My hostess was describing graphically a long motor-tour that they had lately made, which had taken them to a place in the neighbouring county of Sutherland, to a wonderful castle, in which the owner had collected together a number of priceless Italian pictures, and a library of books that would make the fortune of any European collector. How these extraordinary treasures had been obtained was a mystery which my host and hostess did nothing to solve. My host whispered the word "loot," but evidently did not wish to divulge any more than he could help about either the owner of the collection or the place where it was kept. The names of both person and place were hurriedly mentioned, but in an aside — and so murmured that I could not catch them. I asked for them to be repeated, but again they were so slurred over that I had no better success. I tried various devices to get them repeated afresh more clearly, but in vain. The owner's name, as I caught it imperfectly, sounded like Mor. I asked for an atlas, thinking that a study of the county of Sutherland might enable me to find out approximately the whereabouts of the strange castle and mysterious collection, for I now felt determined that whatever happened I would go there and investigate these treasures for myself. But whenever I introduced the subject I was quietly put off by my hosts, and whilst I was still making plans an interruption occurred. Alas! I never found the way to the wonderful castle, although the dream of which this was the opening was a very long one.