Nevertheless, it would be unfair to criticise the locals harshly. Hamish the Hermit was the only anchorite Gatshire has ever had. Whatever books there were on the subject indicated that throughout history and legend if a man went off into the hills he was bound to be a Sage. There was a distinct possibility he would turn out to be a Saint as well. Hamish the Hermit, though, justified people’s confidence in him on neither front. Genius he was not, and Saint most definitely not. But those who sought his counsel in the first months after he had moved into the cave, while his campaign against his own name was just beginning, were not to know this, and they approached him as if he could cure all their problems.

‘Why have you come up here?’ they asked him. ‘What rhymes with “metamorphosis”?’ ‘Do you have any advice on how to win the village idiot election?’ ‘How can I get rid of this cold I’ve got?’ ‘How can I communicate with someone in Hell?’ ‘When people say the streets of London are paved with gold, are they speaking metaphorically, or is it true?’ ‘Can you do this maths puzzle?’ ‘Is it possible to resurrect the dead?’ ‘What is the difference between a procrastinator and a topiarist?’ ‘How far is it to the coast from here?’ ‘What’s your tip for The Derby this year?’ ‘Can you lend me some money?’ ‘Where does our local beer get its name from?’ ‘Can you solve this logic problem?’ ‘Do you have any good suggestions for where I can take my next holiday?’ ‘What are the chances of a frog turning into a prince if you kiss it?’ ‘Do you know any magic tricks?’ ‘How old is that church over there?’ ‘What can I give my sweetheart for Saint Valentine’s Day?’ ‘Can you think of a good way I can humiliate my neighbours?’ ‘What links, nautically, a sciurine, an historic Scottish dukedom, Darkness, and the North Star?’ ‘Can you recommend any recipes involving crab?’ ‘Can you crack this riddle?’ ‘Where does this path lead?’