Another worthy of the Borders, called Geordy Bourne, of somewhat subordinate rank, was a similar picture of profligacy. He had fallen into the hands of Sir Robert Carey, then Warden of the English East Marches, who gives the following account of his prisoner’s confession:—
“When all things were quiet, and the watch set at night, after supper, about ten of the clock, I took one of my men’s liveries, and put it about me, and took two other of my servants with me in their liveries; and we three, as the Warden’s men, came to the Provost Marshal’s where Bourne was, and were let into his chamber. We sate down by him, and told him that we were desirous to see him, because we heard he was stout and valiant, and true to his friend, and that we were sorry our master could not be moved to save his l
