“Then the absurd happened.  I wheeled the horse into the pasture, meaning to let him tire himself, for he was really running away with me; when, all at once, I saw a hundred terror-stricken savages rush out of the sugar-house, stand staring a second, then take to their legs with most doleful cries and hoots and piteous howls.

     “’Oonah!  The Stonish Giants have returned!  Oonah!  Oonah!  The
     Giants of Stone!’

“My vizor was down and locked.  I called out to them in Delaware, but at the sound of my voice they ran the faster—­five score frantic barbarians!  And, dear, if they have stopped running yet I do not know it, for they never came back.

“But the most absurd part of it all is that the Onondagas, who are none too friendly with us, though they pretend to be, have told the Cayugas that the Stonish Giants have returned to earth from Biskoona, which is hell.  And I doubt not that the dreadful news will spread all through the Six Nations, with, perhaps, some astonishing results to us.  For scouts have already come in, reporting trouble between General Burgoyne and his Wyandots, who declare they have had enough of the war and did not enlist to fight the Stonish Giants—­which excuse is doubtless meaningless to him.

“And other scouts from the northwest say that St. Leger can scarce hold the Senecas to the siege of Stanwix because of their great loss at Oriskany, which they are inclined to attribute to spells cast by their enemies, who enjoy the protection of the Stonish Giants.

     “Is it not all mad enough for a child’s dream?

     “Ay, life and love are dreams, dear, and a mad world spins
     them out of nothing....  Forgive me ...  I have been sewing on
     my wedding-gown again.  And it is nigh finished.

     “Good-night.  I love you.  D.”

Blindly I groped for the remaining letter and tore the seal.

“Sir George has just had news of you from an Oneida who says you may be here at any moment!  And I, O God I terrified at my own mad happiness, fearing myself in that meeting, begged him to wed me on the morrow.  I was insane, I think, crazed with fear, knowing that, were I not forever beyond you, I must give myself to you and abide in hell for all eternity!

“And he was astonished, I think, but kind, as he always is; and now the dreadful knowledge has come to me that for me there is no refuge, no safety in marriage which I, poor fool, fled to for sanctuary lest I do murder on my own soul!

“What shall I do?  What can I do?  I have given my word to wed him on the morrow.  If it be mortal sin to show ingratitude to a father and deceive a lover, what would it be to deceive a husband and disgrace a father?

     “And I, silly innocent, never dreamed but that temptation
     ceased within the holy bonds of wedlock—­though sadness might
     endure forever.