Book 2, Chapter 3

⁠​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌‌‌​​‌‌⁠We're in Scotland!

Cæsar could not have revelled in crossing the Rubicon as I revelled in crossing the border. The very word rings out like the sudden sound of bells, or the mysterious music that thrills one's blood in dreams.

Poor Cæsar was obliged to burn his nice boats, and think disagreeable thoughts about the great responsibility he had taken, whereas we made our crossing in a beautiful motor-c