The ride from this place to Kinross is not particularly interesting; neither is the scenery about Loch Leven. I stopped, however, of course, at the village, and walking down to the lake, over some marshy flats, made a bargain with a couple of fellows to row me over to the castle, on the same side from which Queen Mary escaped. There is a boat, it seems, kept by the cicerone of the place, who charges five shillings sterling to each visitor--a great imposition. My men had to keep out of sight, lest they should be fined for trespass! The whole lake is owned by one person--Lord Somebody, who leases the privilege of angling in it, for £500 per annum, and the lessee charges a guinea per day for sub-privileges! It abounds with fine trout. The castle, which is quite a ruin, only one tower remaining entire, looks more like a prison than a place of residence. 'No more its arches echo to the noise Of joy and festive mirth; no more the glance Of blazing taper through its window beams, And quivers on the undulating wave: But naked stand the melancholy walls, Lashed by the wintry tempests, cold and bleak, Which whistle mournfully through the empty halls, And piecemeal crumble down the tower to dust.' The entrance to the chamber pointed out as Queen Mary's is not more than four feet high, so that you have to stoop in entering it. The gate through which she escaped, with Douglas, is on the opposite side of the castle from her apartments, and not the usual place for leaving the island. The spot where she landed is yet called Queen Mary's Knoll.