this entry in his diary:--"Here is a precious job. I have
a formal remonstrance from those critical people, Ballantyne and
Cadell, against the last volume of _Count Robert_, which is within a
sheet of being finished. I suspect their opinion will be found to
coincide with that of the public; at least it is not very different
from my own. The blow is a stunning one, I suppose, for I scarcely
feel it. It is singular, but it comes with as little surprise as if I
had a remedy ready; yet God knows I am at sea in the dark, and the
vessel leaky, I think, into the bargain. I cannot conceive that I have
tied a knot with my tongue which my teeth cannot untie. We shall see.
I have suffered terribly, that is the truth, rather in body than mind,
and I often wish I could lie down and sleep without waking. But I will
fight it out if I can."[58] The medical men with one accord tried to
make him give up his novel-writing. But he smiled and put them by. He
took up _Count Robert of Paris_ again, and tried to recast it. On the
18th May he insisted on attending the election for Roxburghshire, to
be held at Jedburgh, and in spite of the unmannerly reception he had
met with in March, no dissuasion would keep him at home. He was
saluted in the town with groans and blasphemies, and Sir Walter had to
escape from Jedburgh by a back way to avoid personal violence. The
cries of "Burk Sir Walter," with which he was saluted on this
occasion, haunted him throughout his illness and on his dying bed. At
the Selkirk election it was Sir Walter's duty as Sheriff to preside,
and his family therefore made no attempt to dissuade him from his
attendance. There he was so well known and loved, that in spite of his
Tory views, he was not insulted, and the only man who made any attempt
to hustle the Tory electors, was seized by Sir Walter with his own
hand, as he got out of his carriage, and committed to prison without
resistance till the election day was over.

A seton which had been ordered for his head, gave him some relief, and
of course the first result was that he turned immediately to his
novel-writing again, and began _Castle Dangerous_ in July, 1831,--the
last July but one which he was to see at all. He even made a little
journey in company with Mr. Lockhart, in order to see the scene of the
story he wished to tell, and on his return set to work with all his
old vigour to finish his tale, and put the concluding touches to
_Count Robert of Paris_. But his