Again the trouble rose within him. "You, I understand," he said wearily. "Yes. But myself—"
"You will find that out as well, some day," she said tenderly.
"If only there was time now…." He sat for a moment in thought.
"We are leaving to-morrow afternoon. If I have got things clear in my own mind by then, I will come and see you before we go. But it will be at the last minute. For if it comes to what I think it will, then I must not stay a moment longer."
The girl nodded. Both rose to their feet.
"Kyllikki," he said, with emotion, taking her hands, "it may be this is the last time I see you alone. Do not think hardly of me because I am what I am."
"You could not be otherwise," she answered warmly. "I understand."
"I shall be grateful to you for that always. And perhaps…." His voice broke. "Good-bye, Kyllikki!"
* * * * *
It was Sunday afternoon. The lumbermen were getting ready to leave. The young folk of the village, and some of the elders, had come down to the creek at Kohiseva to see them start.