he had but just returned from England, where his boyhood had
been spent, to celebrate his coming of age. Great things were expected
of him, not only as the head of the clan, but as the son of his brave
father, who had died twelve years ago; and since whose death the
Singletons had been leaderless. With a bold leader they might achieve
anything; and they now welcomed the presence of a chief once more in
their midst with all the hope and confidence of sons welcoming a father.
It was, therefore, with astonishment and dismay that they heard him
reply to auld Geordie's proposal--

"I did not know the Singletons were highwaymen!"

If the roof had fallen in it could not have caused greater
consternation. The Singletons looked aghast to hear such a speech from
their chief!

"Is the boy mad?" said one in a whisper.

"Or a coward?" said another.

"Or a fool?" said another.

"The laird's joking," said auld Geordie, in a coaxing voice; "and we are
glad to see ye so merry. But ye'll be in earnest to-morrow, I warrant,
with a score of troopers between you and a thousand pounds!"

"I'm in earnest now," replied young Singleton. "I'm no robber chief, I
tell you. The convoy shall go safe to Edinburgh, as far as we are
concerned. But, come now, Geordie, I want to hear something about this
old castle of mine, for you know I was scarcely in it since I was a
boy."

But it was easier to turn the talk than to turn the thoughts of his
clansmen. They experienced, all of them, a distinct disappointment at
this first exercise of authority on the part of their young laird; and
the cheeks of some of the younger among them actually coloured with
shame at the thought that a Singleton--the Singleton--should be lacking
(as they could not help thinking he was) in bravery. However, they said
nothing, but seemed to listen to auld Geordie, as he launched out into
an account of the old castle of Singleton Towers.

"It's a brave old place," said he. "Sir David Singleton it was who
built it here, on this arm of the sea, in the time of King Wallace. The
story goes that Wallace himself set the top stone of the great tower
with his own hands. Sir David did not live long to enjoy the
stronghold, as you have heard."

"How did he die? I never heard that," asked the young laird.

"Alas! it is a sad story, though a short one. Sir David had a son, and
that son was a coward--the first, and we hope the last, coward who ever
bore the name."