"A wonderful woman," Dame Tremblay said, "a perilous woman too, not
safe to deal with; but for all that, every one runs after her, and
she has a good or bad word for every person who consults her. For
my part," continued the dame, "she foretold my marriage with the
Goodman Tremblay long before it happened, and she also foretold his
death to the very month it happened. So I have reason to believe in
her as well as to be thankful!"
Caroline listened attentively to the dame's remarks. She was not
superstitious, but yet not above the beliefs of her age, while the
Indian strain in her lineage and her familiarity with the traditions
of the Abenaquis inclined her to yield more than ordinary respect to
dreams.
Caroline had dreamed of riding on a coal-black horse, seated behind
the veiled figure of a man whose face she could not see, who carried
her like the wind away to the ends of the earth, and there shut her
up in a mountain for ages and ages, until a bright angel cleft the
rock, and, clasping her in his arms, bore her up to light and
liberty in the presence of the Redeemer and of all the host of
heaven.
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