"Look!" cried our guide, backing water, and bringing the boat to a
standstill. "They are in search of us! If we are discovered they will
fire. It is their orders. No boat is allowed upon this lake."
Elma sat watching our pursuers, but still calm and silent. She seemed to
intrust herself entirely to me.
The guards were rowing rapidly, the oars sounding in the rowlocks,
evidently in the belief that we had made for the river. But the
Finlander had apparently foreseen this, and for that reason we were
lying safe from observation in the deep shadow of an overhanging tree.
A gray mist was slowly rising from the water, and the Finn, noticing it,
hoped that it might favor us. In Finland in late autumn the mists are
often as thick as our proverbial London fogs, only whiter, denser, and
more frosty.
"If we disembark we shall be compelled to make a detour of fully four
days in the forest, in order to pass the marshes," he pointed out in a
low whisper. "But if we can enter the river we can go ashore anywhere
and get by foot to some place where the lady can lie in hiding.
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