Here then I settled myself, and made a comfortable abode in a dry burn-channel, overarched with long heather. The weather was unusually warm and dry, the streams were worn to a narrow thread of silver trickling among grey stones, and the hot sun blazed from morn to night in a cloudless sky. The life, on the whole, was very pleasing. There was cold water from a mossy well hard by when I was thirsty. As for food, I made at once an expedition to the nearest cottage on my lands, where dwelt one Robin Sandilands, who straightway supplied all my needs and gave me much useful information to boot. Afterwards he came every second day to a certain part of the hill with food, which he left there for me to take at my convenience. Hence the fare was something better than I had had in my previous hiding-place. Also it was a cheerful life. Up there on the great flat hill-top, with nothing around me but the sky and the measureless air, with no noises in my ear but the whistle of hill-birds, with no view save great shoulders of mountain, the mind was raised to something higher and freer than of old. Earthly troubles and little squabbles and jealousies seemed of less account. The more than Catonian gravity of these solemn uplands put to flight all pettiness and small ambition. It has been an immemorial practice in our borderland that those of ruined fortunes, broken men, should take to the hills for concealment, if need be, and in any case for satisfaction. Verily twelve months of that pure air would make a gentleman of a knave, and a hero of the most sordid trader. However, ere June had merged in July, I found myself in want of some companion to cheer my solitude. I would have given much for some like-minded fellow-wayfarer, but since that might not be had I was fain to content myself with a copy of Plotinus, which I had got with all the difficulty in the world from the house of Barns. It happened on a warm afternoon, when, as I lay meditating as was my wont in the heather, a great desire came upon me for some book to read in. Nothing would do but that I must straightway set out for Barns at the imminent peril of my own worthless life. It was broad daylight; men were working in the fields at the hay; travellers were passing on the highway; and for all I knew soldiers were in the house. But with a mad recklessness I ventured on the quest, and, entering the house boldly, made my way to the library and was choosing books. Then I was startled by the noise of approaching steps, and seizing hastily the first volume I could lay hands on, set off for the hills at the top of my speed. The visit had renewed old recollections, and I spent a bitter evening reflecting upon my altered position.