Clearly this failing imagination of Sir Walter’s was still a great deal more vivid than that of most men, with brains as sound as it ever pleased Providence to make them.  But his troubles were not yet even numbered.  The “storm increased,” and it was, as he said, “no sunny shower.”  His lame leg became so painful that he had to get a mechanical apparatus to relieve him of some of the burden of supporting it.  Then, on the 21st March, he was hissed at Jedburgh, as I have before said, for his vehement opposition to Reform.  In April he had another stroke of paralysis which he now himself recognized as one.  Still he struggled on at his novel.  Under the date of May 6, 7, 8, he makes 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.