For as long as possible I succeeded in delaying our departure, but at length, just as the yellow sun began to struggle through the grey clouds, we were all three compelled to depart in sorrowful procession.
What, we wondered, had really happened to Elma? It was evident that she had not fallen into the hands of the police; nevertheless, the fact that the door of the inner room was open caused them to look upon the statement of the wood-cutter with distinct suspicion and disbelief.
Our captors seemed quite well aware of all the circumstances of our escape from Kajana, and were consequently filled with chagrin that Elma, the person they so much desired to re-capture, had slipped through their fingers. While the police rode, we were compelled to walk before them, and after trudging ten miles or so through the forest we came across another small posse of police, who were apparently in search of us, for they expressed delight when they saw us under arrest.
"Where is the woman?" inquired one officer of the other.
"Still at liberty," replied the man who held us as prisoners. "In hiding twenty versts back, I think."
"Ah, we shall find her before long," he said confidently. "Within twelve hours we shall have searched the whole forest. She cannot escape us."
Our captors explained who we were, and then we were pushed forward again, skirting a great wide lake called the Nasjarvi, along the wooded
