the church covered these sports with the mantle of her approval, but was
ready to excommunicate any one who should dance. Promiscuous dancing was
the fiery dragon which the church went out to slay. Only its death could
save her from a fit of choler which might be fatal, unless, indeed, the
dancing were sanctified by promiscuous kissing. If men and women danced
together without kissing, they were in immediate danger of eternal
damnation; but with plenty of kissing, and rude wrestling to overcome
the delicacy of women who objected to such desecration, the church gave
her blessing to the quadrille.

My protest against these plays had given offense, and I chose to avoid
them; but one evening the host begged me to remain, saying he would see
that I was not annoyed, and would himself take me home. The frolic was
only begun, when he came and asked permission to introduce a gentleman,
saying: "If you do not treat him well, I will never forgive you."

There was no need of this caution, for he presented a man whose presence
made me feel that I was a very little girl and should have been at home.
He was over six feet tall, well formed and strongly built, with black
hair and eyes, a long face, and heavy black whiskers. He was handsomely
dressed, and his manner that of a grave and reverend seignior. A Russian
count in a New York drawing room, then, when counts were few, could not
have seemed more foreign than this man in that village parlor, less than
two miles from the place of his birth.

He was the son of the old revolutionary soldier, with the unpronouncable
name, who lived in the beautiful valley. This I knew at once, but did
not, for some time, realize that it was he who rescued us from the black
waters on that dark night, carried us to safety and light, and left us
again in darkness. This incident, so much to me, he never could