Wishart says, that such was the friendship and familiarity of Kinpont with his murderer, that they had slept in the same bed the night previous to the horrid deed, which took place, it appears, in the grey of the morning. It is true that he killed also “the centinel who stood at the entry of the camp, it being so dark that those who pursued him could not see the length of their pikes. Montrose was very much afflicted with the untimely fate of this nobleman, who had been his own special friend, and most faithful and loyal to the King his master, and who, besides his knowledge in polite literature, philosophy, divinity, and law, was eminent for his probity and fortitude.”—_Memoirs_, p. 84. * * * * * PHILIPHAUGH.[64] Selkirk lies on the face of a long range of hills stretching from north to south. The Ettrick water, a pretty little river, runs at their base. A bridge of four arches crosses the stream, and carries the road from the low, flat, and swampy plain of Philiphaugh, up the eminence, in a gracefully winding direction, to the town. A mountain streamlet, called the Shawburn, disembogues itself at the bridge. This in summer is quite dry, but in winter, or during wet weather, descends in torrents, and assists the Ettrick in overflowing the field of Philiphaugh. This celebrated field is now partly inclosed, and bears a few patches of turnips; but the chief produce seems to be rushes, a species of crop which may perhaps yield little comfort to the agriculturist, but which will give a more than proportionable pleasure to the amateur, assuring him that the ground has lost little of its original character, and is much the same now as when it was trod by Montrose.