But she never asked to see it. She was on the terrace which juts over
the rock the castle is built on, and which looks out over the purple
world of climbing moor. She saw from there the returning party of
shooters and gillies winding its way slowly through the heather,
following a burden carried on a stretcher of fir boughs. Some of her
women guests were with her, and one of them said afterward that when she
first caught sight of the moving figures she got up slowly and crept
to the stone balustrade with a crouching movement almost like a young
leopardess preparing to spring. But she only watched, making neither
sound nor movement until the cortege was near enough for her to see that
every man's head was bowed upon his breast, and not one was covered.

Then she said, quite slowly, "They--have--taken off--their bonnets," and
fell upon the terrace like a dropped stone.

It was because of this that the girl said that she was dead when I was
born. It must have seemed almost as if she were not a living thing.
She did not open her eyes or make a sound; she lay white and cold.
The celebrated physicians who came from London talked of catalepsy
and afterward wrote scientific articles which tried to explain her
condition. She did not know when I was born. She died a few minutes
after I uttered my first cry.

I know only one thing more, and that Jean Braidfute told me after I grew
up. Jean had been my father's nursery governess when he wore his first
kilts, and she loved my mother fondly.

"I knelt by her bed and held her hand and watched her face for three
hours after they first laid her down," she said. "And my eyes were so
near her every moment that I saw a thing the others did not know her