Here all looked hard at the youth, who, not noticing their meaning
glances, said--

"Amen, with all my heart! Go on."

"Well, this son grew up, like you, in England, and it was not till he
had reached man's estate that he came here. His father, a proud man,
and ambitious, rejoiced, as your father would have rejoiced this day, to
see a son in his place, ready, as he hoped, to carry on the brave
traditions of his name to a future generation. The youth was welcomed
home with great pomp and rejoicing, and for aught men could see he was a
worthy son of a worthy sire.

"But, alas! as the Bible says, `Pride comes before the fall.' A few
days after his home-coming, the news came that a party of English was
advancing on Singleton Towers. The old laird, nothing doubting, ordered
his son to take fifty men and meet the enemy, while he himself stayed
behind to guard this place.

"The lad obeyed, and marched forth. They met, he and the English, under
Brantor Hill yonder; and then appeared the real character of the boy.
At the first onset, before ever a blow was struck, he turned and fled,
no one knows whither.

"The old laird for long would not believe it; but when on all hands the
story was confirmed, and no news came of the lad, he sickened and
drooped. He shut himself up in the turret-room out there and never left
it except at night, when his one walk was on the east terrace, over this
very room.

"One night they missed the sound of his footsteps, and next morning he
was found dead in his little chamber--dead of a broken heart. And they
say that if ever again a coward should be the laird of Singleton, that
that old man will walk out there where he walked four centuries ago."

A dead silence followed the close of this story, and all eyes, by a sort
of common instinct, were turned towards the head of the table. At that
moment, apparently from the terrace outside, came a sound of footsteps;
and as they listened, every cheek grew suddenly pale, and a shudder
crept round the assembly. The silence, however, was broken by a laugh
from the young laird himself, who had been the only unmoved hearer of
this last mysterious sound.

"Why, there is my poor dog, Jupiter, out there! I had quite forgotten
him. Let him in, some one!"

No one stirred. The young chief looked round perplexed, and then rose
himself and went to the window and opened it. As he did so, a huge
shaggy mastiff bounded into the apartment, barking and