On the Night of the Seventh Moon

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Now that I have reached the mature age of twenty-seven I look back on that fantastic adventure of my youth and can almost convince myself that it did not happen as I believed it did then. Yet sometimes even now I awake in the night because, in my dreams, I have heard a voice calling me, and that voice is the voice of my child. But here I am, a spinster of this parish-at least those who know me think of me as such-though deep within me I believe myself to be a wife even as I ask: Did I suffer some mental aberration? Was it really true as they tried to convince me that I, a romantic and rather feckless girl, had been betrayed as many had been before and because I could not face this fact, had fabricated a wild story which none but myself could believe.

Because it is of the greatest importance to me to understand what really happened on the Night of the Seventh Moon, I have decided to set out in detail the events as I remember them, in the hope that by so doing, the truth will emerge.

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