an, as Gilderoy's lover said, "for gear," a thing that
never yet was known to be stationary, but, even from the times of the
Old Testament, given to taking to itself wings and flying away. It was,
besides, against the oldest constitution of things, the old possessors
being the _Tories_, who acted upon the comely principle already alluded
to, that right was might--the new lairds, again, being the Whigs, who
wished to take from the Tories (the freebooters) the good old law of
nature and possession, and regulate property by the mere conceits of
men's brains. To some such purpose did Margaret argue against Will's
allusions to the doings at Jedburgh; but, secretly, Will cared no more
for the threat of a rope, than he did for the empty bravado of a
neighbour whom he had eased of a score of cattle. He merely brought
in the doings of the Justice-Ayr at Jedburgh, to screen his fits of
laziness; those states of the mind common to rievers, thieves, writers,
and poets, and generally all people who live upon their wits, which
at times incapacitate them for using sword or pen for their honest
livelihood. But all Margaret's arguments and Will's courage were on one
occasion overturned, by the riever's apprehension for stealing a cow,
belonging to a farmer at Stobbs, of the name of Grant. He was carried
to Jedburgh jail, and indicted to stand his trial before the Lord
Justice-General at the next circuit. There was a determination, on the
part of the crown authorities, to make an example of the most inveterate
riever of the time, and Will stood a very fair chance of being hanged.

The apprehension of Will Armstrong made a great noise throughout all
Liddesdale, producing, to the class of victims, joy, and to the class
of spoilers, great dismay; but none wondered more at the impertinence
and presumption of the government authorities in attempting thus to
dislocate the old Tory principle of "might makes right," than Margaret
Elliot; who, as she sat in her turret of Gilnockie, alternately wept and
cursed for the fate of her "winsome Will," and, no doubt, there was in
the projected condemnation and execution of a man six feet five inches
high, with a face like an Adonis, shoulders like a Milo, the speed of
Mercury, the boldness of a lion, and more than the generosity of that
noble animal, for the crime of stealing a stirk, something that was very
apt to rouse, even in those who loved him not so well as did Margaret,
feelings of sympathy for hi