How long the body might have to lie with them, no one could tell,
for the storm had ceased in a hard frost, and there could be no
postal communication for many days. The laird judged it better,
therefore, as soon as the shell arrived, to place the body in a
death-chapel prepared for it by nature herself. With their spades
he and Cosmo fashioned the mound, already hollowed in sport, into
the shape of a hugh sarcophagus, then opened wide the side of it,
to receive the coffin as into a sepulchre in a rock. The men
brought it, laid it in, and closed the entrance again with snow.
Where Cosmo's hollow man of light had shone, lay the body of the
wicked old nobleman.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A WINTER IDYLL.
Lady Joan the same day wrote to her brother Borland, now Mergwain,
telling him what had taken place. But it must be some time before
she received his answer, for the post from England reached the
neighbouring city but intermittently, and was there altogether
arrested, so far as Howglen and Muir o' Warlock were concerned. The
laird told her she must have patience, and assured her that to them
her presence was welcome.
And now began for Cosmo an episode of enchantment, as wondrous as
any dream of tree-top, or summer wave city--for if it was not so
full of lighter marvel around, it had at the heart of it a deeper
marvel, namely a live and beautiful lady.
She was a girl of nearly eighteen, but looked older--shapely,
strong, and graceful.
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