But then Grizzie rose in haste, like one that had overslept herself, and said: "I maun to my wark, laird--what think ye ?" The laird rose also, and by a common impulse they went and looked at the corpse--for corpse it now was, beyond all question, cold as the snow without.

After a brief, low-voiced conference, they proceeded to carry it to the guest-chamber, where they laid it upon the bed, and when Grizzie had done all that custom required, left it covered with a sheet, dead in the room where it dared not sleep, a mound cold and white as any snow-wreath outside.

It looked as if Winter had forced his way into the house, and left this one drift, in signal of his capture.

Grizzie went about her duties, and the laird back to his book.
A great awe fell upon Cosmo when he heard what visit and what departure had taken place in the midst of the storm and darkness.
Lady Joan turned white as the dead, and spoke not a word.

A few tears rolled from the luminous dark of her eyes, like the dew slow-gathering in a night of stars, but she was very still.