"But you have a passport?"
I drew it from my pocket, saying--
"It proves, I think, that my name is what I have told you."
The fellow, standing astride, read it, and handed it back to me.
"Where is the woman?" he demanded. "Tell me."
"I don't know," was my reply.
"Perhaps you will tell me," he said, turning to the old wood-cutter with
a sinister expression upon his face. "Remember, these fugitives are
found in your house, and you are liable to arrest."
"I don't know--indeed I don't!" protested the old fellow, trembling
beneath the officer's threat. Like all his class, he feared the police,
and held them in dread.
"Ah, you don't remember, I suppose!" he smiled. "Well, perhaps your
memory will be refreshed by a month or two in prison. You are also
arrested."
"But, your Excellency, I--"
"Enough!" blared the bristly officer. "You have given shelter to
conspirators. You know the penalty in Finland for that, surely?"
"But these gentlemen are surely not conspirators!" the poor old man
protested.
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