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Updated: September 7, 2025
"Ane o' the limmers has been sapping and undermining Coberston wi' her hellish scandal. What's the lurdon's name, my Lord?" "Gibson of Durie," rejoined Traquair. "Ah! a weel-kenned scandalous runt that," replied Will. "She's the auldest o' the hail fifteen, if I'm no cheated Leddie President o' the coterie.
Douglas, Traquair, Roxburgh, Hume, all friendly to the royal cause, would counterbalance," he said, "the covenanting interest in the south; and two gentlemen, of name and quality, here present, from the north of England, would answer for the zeal of Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Northumberland.
"I should be an American Scot if I married him. He tells me they are noted for their daring." While they were thus animatedly conversing, word came that Mr. McTavish had called in the hope of seeing Miss MacNish. "There," said Miss McTavish, "you see! Go down to him, Traquair, and be pleasant, until I come. Then vanish."
Will having thus executed his commission, sat down and wrote on a scrap of paper these expressive words "The brock's in the pock!" and sent it with one of his friends to Traquair House. The moment the Earl read the scrawl, he knew that Will had performed his promise, and took a hearty laugh at the extraordinary scheme he had resorted to for gaining his plea.
Dootless, they're at the root o' the danger o' yer bonny barony o' Coberston. By the rood! I wish I had a dash at their big curches." "Ay, Will," responded Traquair; "but they're securely lodged in their strong Parliament House, and the difficulty is how to get at them." "But I fancy ane o' the lurdons will satisfy yer Lordship," said Will, "or do ye want them a' lodged in Græme's Tower?
Tradition tells of his long ride to convey important papers from Lord Traquair to King Charles I, and of his perilous return journey, bearing a reply from his Majesty. Tidings of his mission had come to the ears of the Parliamentarians, and orders were issued to seize him at Carlisle.
I met Basil Montgomery at Traquair House many years after my papa's election, where we were entertained by Herbert Maxwell the owner of one of the most romantic houses in Scotland, and our most courteous and affectionate neighbour.
But he remembered also Cameron, Macleod, Traquair, a score of gallant hearts, of handsome gentlemen, and Lochiel, true chevalier perhaps a better than his king! It was of these Count Victor spoke of their faith, their valiancies, their shifts of penury and pride. He had used often to consort with them at Cammercy, and later on in Paris.
"'Bethink how ye sware, by the salt and the bread, By the lightning, the wind, and the rain, That if ever of Christie's Will I had need, He would pay me my service again." And Lord Traquair did not plead in vain. It was a little thing to do, Will thought, for one who had saved him from the gallows tree.
"Not later than to-morrow, then," said Miss McTavish, as though to cap a promise that had been made to her. "I'm obliged to you, Traquair, deeply obliged." But it was not the matter of the ten pounds that worried Traquair as he climbed into his pony cart and drove slowly through the castle policies to the gate.
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