But the most of the shops were on the other side of the valley, in the Old Town; and it was now my strange discovery that I was physically unable to cross the North Bridge! It was as though a precipice had stood between us, or the deep sea had intervened.

Nearer to the Castle my legs refused to bear me.
I told myself this was mere superstition; I made wagers with myself--and gained them; I went down on the esplanade of Princes Street, walked and stood there, alone and conspicuous, looking across the garden at the old grey bastions of the fortress, where all these troubles had begun.

I cocked my hat, set my hand on my hip, and swaggered on the pavement, confronting detection.

And I found I could do all this with a sense of exhilaration that was not unpleasing, and with a certain _cranerie_ of manner that raised me in my own esteem.

And yet there was one thing I could not bring my mind to face up to, or my limbs to execute; and that was to cross the valley into the Old Town.