There had been a tremendous fall of snow, which a furious wind,
lasting two days and the night between, had drifted into great mounds,
so that the shape of the country was much altered with new heights and
hollows. Even those who were best acquainted with them could only
guess at the direction of some of the roads, and it was the easiest
thing in the world to lose the right track, even in broad daylight. As
soon as the storm was over, however, and the frost was found likely to
continue, they had begun to cut passages through some of the deeper
wreaths, as they called the snow-mounds; while over the tops of
others, and along the general line of the more frequented roads,
footpaths were soon trodden. It was many days, however, before
vehicles could pass, and coach-communication be resumed between the
towns. All the short day, the sun, though low, was brilliant, and the
whole country shone with dazzling whiteness; but after sunset, which
took place between three and four o'clock, anything more dreary can
hardly be imagined, especially when the keenest of winds rushed in
gusts from the north-east, and lifting the snow-powder from untrodden
shadows, blew it, like so many stings, in the face of the freezing
traveller.
Early one afternoon, just as I came home from school, which in winter
was always over at three o'clock, my father received a message that a
certain laird, or _squire_ as he would be called in England--whose
house lay three or four miles off amongst the hills, was at the point
of death, and very anxious to see him: a groom on horseback had
brought the message.
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