Olof swam upstream, his eyes fixed on the heap of clothing, and a faint smile on his lips. He took the bundle, tied his belt round it, and fastened it above his own. The double load stood up high above his head.
"They'll be all right now—if I don't make a mess of it," he assured her.
With long, slow strokes he made for the opposite shore. The girl stood motionless in the reeds, watching him as he swam.
"How strong and bold he is!" she thought. "And the wonderful things he does! What does he care for the river?—water between us is nothing to him. He makes everything do his will. How could one be afraid with him?"
"Her clothes!" thought Olof. "And I am carrying them."
He reached the bank, untied the girl's bundle, and set it carefully ashore. Then swimming a little farther down, he flung his own things up on land.
"Haven't you started yet?" he called across to the girl—though he had been hoping all the time that she had not.
"No—I was just going to," she replied. "I—I forgot. It was such fun watching you."
"I'll come and meet you, if you like. It'll be safer perhaps…."
"Ye—es," said the girl.