forest somewhere in the vicinity to
wait until the danger of recapture had passed.

For nearly half an hour I argued with the police officer whose intention
it was to take me under arrest to Helsingfors. Once there, however, I
knew too well that my liberty would be probably gone for ever. Whatever
was the Baron's motive in holding the poor girl a prisoner, it would
also be his motive to silence me. I knew too much for his liking.

"I refuse to go to Helsingfors," I said defiantly. "I am a British
subject, and demand to be taken back to the port where my passport was
vised." This argument I repeated time after time, until at length I
succeeded in convincing him that I really had a right to be taken to
Abo, and to seek the aid of the British Vice-Consul if necessary.

For as long as possible I succeeded in delaying our departure, but at
length, just as the yellow sun began to struggle through the gray
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 recapture, 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
shore of which we walked the whole day long until, at sundown, we came
to a picturesque little log-built town facing the water, called
Filppula. Here we obtained a hasty meal, and afterwards took the train
down to Abo, where we arrived next morning, after a very unc