Nae living man I’ll love again, Since that my lovely knight was slain, Wi’ ae lock of his yellow hair, I’ll chain my heart for evermair. [Illustration: "_I sew’d his sheet, making my moan; I watch’d the corpse, myself alone._"] *Chapter XXV* *The Raid of the Kers* The spirited ballad that describes this raid is quite modern, since it was written by Hogg, "the Ettrick Shepherd," in 1830. But the rash raid it describes took place in 1549. The Kers were an important Border family, the leaders of whom afterwards became Earls of Roxburgh. Sir Andrew Ker was warden of the Border at the time of the raid, but he proved that it took place without his consent. The Kers were all left-handed men, and puzzled their enemies by their left-handed swordsmanship. Even to-day in some parts of the borders a left-handed man is called "Ker-handed." On a fine September evening Tam Ker rode out, with fifty in his company. They were armed for a fight and their swords were keen; they rode by the Maiden Crags and down the Osway burn, going carefully till the daylight closed, for they were soon in Northumberland. Their bold plan was to get down the valley of the Coquet even as far as Rothbury where Withrington, the English warden, kept a magnificent herd of cattle. They had one castle to pass, that of Biddleston, which had been held by the Selby family since the reign of Henry III., and still belongs to them to this day. Biddleston Castle guarded the Allanton or Alwinton ford, where the Alwin stream enters the Coquet. So they sent the reckless Mark Ker first, to scout along by the ford, and told him to set up marks on the cairns to show his progress. Having nothing else to mark with, he tore the shirt off his back, and left strips of it on the cairns. At the ford a sentry challenged him, and he answered that he had a message for Withrington. The sentry demanded his sealed warrant, and the Scot drew his sword. They fought bravely and long before the Englishman was killed, and the Scot marvelled that a common soldier should so withstand him, for he was the best swordsman of his race. On he galloped, on and on, till he met a comely maiden, and addressing her he tried to imitate the Northumberland speech, saying that he had lost his way. She told him at once that she knew he was a Scot, but so also was she. She had been taken captive, but word had came by an English spy that the Kers were out upon a raid, and while the English had set a hundred soldiers to guard their cattle she had slipped away to warn the Scots and to return with them. Being a gallant after the manner of that day, he sprang from his horse, kissed her, and invited her to mount his saddle even if he had to run beside till he could capture another steed. But an English soldier came up and warned him roughly off the road. Mark Ker had been brought up to answer rough words with rougher blows; out