yman. He had
not long ridden in the neighbourhood of Perth before he met the Earl of
Linlithgow, from whom he took a gold watch, a diamond ring, and eighty
guineas. Being an outlaw, he naturally espoused the King's cause, and
would have given a year of his life to meet a Regicide. Once upon a
time, says rumour, he found himself face to face with Oliver Cromwell,
whom he dragged from his coach, set ignominiously upon an ass, and so
turned adrift with his feet tied under the beast's belly. The story is
incredible, not only because the loyal historians of the time caused
Oliver to be robbed daily on every road in Great Britain, but because
our Gilderoy, had he ever confronted the Protector, most assuredly would
not have allowed him to escape with his life.

Tired of scouring the highway, Gilderoy resolved upon another
enterprise. He collected a band of fearless ruffians, and placed himself
at their head. With this army to aid, he harried Sutherland and the
North, lifting cattle, plundering homesteads, and stopping wayfarers
with a humour and adroitness worthy of Robin Hood. No longer a lawless
adventurer, he made his own conditions of life, and forced the people to
obey them. He who would pay Gilderoy a fair contribution ran no risk of
losing his sheep or oxen. But evasion was impossible, and the smallest
suspicion of falsehood was punished by death. The peaceably inclined
paid their toll with regret; the more daring opposed the raider to their
miserable undoing; the timid satisfied the utmost exactions of Gilderoy,
and deemed themselves fortunate if they left the country with their
lives.

Thus Scotland became a land of dread; the most restless man within
her borders hardly dare travel beyond his byre. The law was powerless
against this indomitable scourge, and the reward of a thousand marks
would have been offered in vain, had not Gilderoy's cruelty estranged
his mistress. This traitress--Peg Cunningham was her name--less for
avarice than in revenge for many insults and infidelities, at last
betrayed her master. Having decoyed him to her house, she admitted fifty
armed men, and thus imagined a full atonement for her unnumbered wrongs.
But Gilderoy was triumphant to the last. Instantly suspecting the
treachery of his mistress, he burst into her bed-chamber, and, that she
might not enjoy the price of blood, ripped her up with a hanger. Then he
turned defiant upon the army arrayed against him, and killed eight men
before