,
But leave the fetters, I pray, to me."

To which polite request the Laird's ain Jock replied--

"I wat weel no,
I'll keep them a'; shoon to my mare they'll be,
My gude bay mare--for I am sure,
She bought them a' right dear frae thee."

No Liddesdale reiver was ever likely to part with anything in a hurry,
least of all to give it up to an Englishman.

The Armstrongs, almost without exception, were noted thieves. They seem to
have possessed a rare genius for reiving. Their plans were generally so
well formed, and carried out with such a fine combination of daring and
cunning, that the "enemy" almost invariably came off "second best." One of
the last, and most noted of this reiving clan, was _William Armstrong_, a
lineal descendant of the famous Johnie of Gilnockie, who was known on the
Borders by the name of _Christie's Will_, to distinguish him from the
other members of his family and clan. He flourished during the reign of
Charles I., a circumstance which shows that moss-trooping did not
altogether cease at the union of the Crowns. It is related that, on one
occasion, Christie's Will had got into trouble, and was imprisoned in the
Tolbooth of Jedburgh. The Lord High Treasurer, the Earl of Traquair, who
was visiting in the district, was led to enquire as to the cause of his
confinement. The prisoner told him, with a pitiful expression of
countenance, that he had got into grief for stealing two _tethers_
(halters). The eminent statesman was astonished to hear that such a
trivial offence had been so severely punished, and pressed him to say if
this was the only crime he had committed. He ultimately reluctantly
acknowledged that there were two _delicate colts_ at the end of them! This
bit of pleasantry pleased his lordship, and through his intercession the
culprit was released from his imprisonment.

It was a fortunate thing for Lord Traquair that he acted as he did. A
short time afterwards he was glad to avail himself of the services of the
man whom he had thus been the means of setting at liberty. The story is
one of the most romantic on record, and amply justifies the adage that
"truth is stranger than fiction." A case, in which the Earl was deeply
interested, was pending in the Court of Session. It was believed that the
judgment would turn on the decision of the presiding judge, who has a
casting vote in the case of an equal division among his brethren. It was
known that the