THE DOUBLE ALIBI 155 



Scott rode about and about, searching the low 

 heather as I had done, but to no purpose. He 

 rode on, and, glancing back, saw the same man at 

 the same place. He turned his horse, galloped 

 to the spot, and again — nothing ! 'Then,' says 

 Sir Walter, ' neither the mare nor I cared to wait 

 any longer.' Neither had I cared to wait, and if 

 there is any shame in the confession, on my head 

 be it ! 



There came a week of blazing summer weather ; 

 tramping over moors to lochs like sheets of 

 burnished steel was out of the question, and I 

 worked at my book, which now was all but 

 finished. At length I wrote The End, and ' 6 le 

 bon ouff ! que je poussais,' as Flaubert says about 

 one of his own laborious conclusions. The weather 

 broke, we had a deluge, and then came a soft 

 cloudy day, with a warm southern wind suggesting 

 a final march on Loch Nan. I packed some 

 scones and marmalade into my creel, filled my 

 flask with whiskey, my cigarette-case with cigar- 

 ettes, and started on the familiar track with the 

 happiest anticipations. The Lone Fisher was 



