round there was a stillness of the country; and as I lay there
on my back, the next three or four hours, I had a fine occasion to
review my conduct.

Two things became plain to me first: that I had had no right to go that
day to Dean, and (having gone there) had now no right to be lying where
I was. This (where Alan was to come) was just the one wood in all broad
Scotland that was, by every proper feeling, closed against me; I
admitted that, and yet stayed on, wondering at myself. I thought of the
measure with which I had meted to Catriona that same night; how I had
prated of the two lives I carried, and had thus forced her to enjeopardy
her father's; and how I was here exposing them again, it seemed in
wantonness. A good conscience is eight parts of courage. No sooner had I
lost conceit of my behaviour, than I seemed to stand disarmed amidst a
throng of terrors. Of a sudden I sat up. How if I went now to
Prestongrange, caught him (as I still easily might) before he slept, and
made a full submission? Who could blame me? Not Stewart the writer; I
had but to say that I was followed, despaired of getting clear, and so
gave in. Not Catriona: here, too, I had my answer ready; that I could
not bear she should expose her father. So, in a moment, I could lay all
these troubles by, which were after all and truly none of mine; swim
clear of the Appin murder; get forth out of handstroke of all the
Stewarts and Campbells, all the whigs and tories, in the land; and live
thenceforth to my own mind, and be able to enjoy and to improve my
fortunes, and devote some hours of my youth to courting Catriona, which
would be surely a more suitable occupation than to hide and run and be
followed like a hunted thief, and begin over again the dreadful miseries
of my escape with Alan.

At first I thought no shame of this capitulation; I was only amazed I
had not thought upon the thing and done it earlier; and began to inquire
into the causes of the change. These I traced to my lowness of spirits,
that back to my late recklessness, and that again to the common, old,
public, disconsidered sin of self-indulgence. Instantly the text came in
my head, "_How can Satan cast out Satan?_" What? (I thought) I had, by
self-indulgence, and the following of pleasant paths, and the lure of a
young maid, cast myself wholly out of conceit with my own character, and
jeopardised the lives of James and Alan? And I was to seek the way out
by the same road as I had e