protestation in the meantime that they should both go to the grave together. But God was more merciful, for by this time the Master was past Smeaton Ford, and before his father came that length, he was at Fallside House, out of all danger.... Coming now a little to himself, he [the father] began much to condemn this unwarrantable attempt of his, upon second thoughts. Before he came back, the sad object of his sorrow was removed to the place of Drum, and the corpse decently handled by the ladies of Edmonston, Woolmet, and Sheriff-hall, near neighbours, for in less than ane hour the report went over all the country. Yea, before the king rose from dinner he had notice of it, being then in Holyroodhouse, with the circumstance of the father’s following the other son with intention to kill him; for which the king, within three days thereafter (the Lord Somerville coming to wait upon his majesty), reproved him by saying “he was a madman; that having lost one son by so sudden an accident, should needs wilfully destroy another himself, in whom, as he was certainly informed, there was neither malice nor design, but a great misfortune, occasioned by unwary handling of the pistol, which should have rather been a matter of regret and sorrow to him that the like had happened in his family, than that he should have sought after revenge. Therefore he commanded him to send for his eldest son, and be reconciled to him, for he knew he was a sober youth, and the very thoughts of his misfortune would afflict him enough, albeit he were not discountenanced by him.”’ The unhappy principal in this tragedy was in reality an amiable young man, insomuch as to be called the Good Master of Somerville. ‘I have heard it reported that Sir James Bannatyne of Newhall, one of the senators of the College of Justice, asserted there was not a properer youth trod the streets of Edinburgh, nor one of whom there was greater expectation, than William, Master of Somerville; but when God designs the ruin of a family, all supports are removed, that the fall may be the more sudden, as happened in this young nobleman’s case, who after he had contracted in the latter end of February, and should have been married in April 1591, that very month he took a fever, which kept him long, and so weakened his body that he never recovered, but continued under a languishing sickness for more than ten months. It was supposed the thoughts of his own great misfortune in killing of his brother, the disagreement of his parents ... hastened his death. He died at Cowthally in the month of January 1592.... A devote gentleman, William Inglis of East Shiel, as the corpse passed the outer gate, struck upon his breast, and cried out to the hearing of many: “This day the head is as clean taken off the house of Cowthally, as you would strike off the head of a syboe!”[156] And indeed it proved so.’ * * * * * [Sidenote: 1589. AUG. 30.]