reception as should
disgust him for the future. He snatched the cake from the girdle,
thrust it into his step-son's hands, which he forcibly closed on the
scalding bread, saying, "Here, Allan--here is a cake which your mother
has got ready for your breakfast." Allan's hands were severely burnt;
and, being a sharp-witted and proud boy, he resented this mark of his
step-father's ill-will, and came not again to Torloisk.

At this time the western seas were covered with the vessels of
pirates, who, not unlike the sea-kings of Denmark at an early period,
sometimes settled and made conquests on the islands. Allan-a-Sop was
young, strong, and brave to desperation. He entered as a mariner on
board of one of these ships, and in process of time obtained the
command, first of one galley, then of a small flotilla, with which he
sailed round the seas and collected considerable plunder, until his
name became both feared and famous. At length he proposed to himself
to pay a visit to his mother, whom he had not seen for many years; and
setting sail for this purpose, he anchored one morning in the Sound of
Ulva, and in front of the house of Torloisk. His mother was dead, but
his stepfather, to whom he was now an object of fear as he had been
formerly of aversion, hastened to the shore to receive his formidable
son-in-law, with great affectation of kindness and interest in his
prosperity; while Allan-a-Sop, who, though very rough and hasty, does
not appear to have been sullen or vindictive, seemed to take his kind
reception in good part.

The crafty old man succeeded so well, as he thought, in securing
Allan's friendship, and in obliterating all recollections of the
former affront put on him, that he began to think it possible to
employ him in executing his private revenge upon MacKinnon of Ulva,
with whom, as was usual between such neighbours, he had some feud.
With this purpose, he offered what he called the following good advice
to his son-in-law:--"My dear Allan, you have now wandered over the
seas long enough; it is time you should have some footing upon land,
a castle to protect yourself in winter, a village and cattle for your
men, and a harbour to lay up your galleys. Now, here is the island
of Ulva, near at hand, which lies ready for your occupation, and it
will cost you no trouble, save that of putting to death the present
proprietor, the Laird of MacKinnon, a useless old carle, who has
cumbered the world long enough."

All