ow 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.

She felt no shame now, though he was looking straight at her. He was
filled with the strange delight that comes with any stepping over the
bounds of everyday life into a world of fairyland, where all is pure,
and nothing is forbidden, where the sense of being _two_ that go their
own ways unseen is like a purging, fusing flame.

Olof swam rapidly across.

"You look like a water-witch there in the reeds," he cried
delightedly, checking his stroke.

"And you're the water-sprite," she answered, with a joyous smile, as
she struck out.

"Bravo, water-witch, you're swimming splendidly!" he cried. They were
swimming side by side now, straight across the river.

The water rippled lightly about them; now and again the girl's white
shoulder lifted above the surface, her long hair trailed behind over
the water, that shone like gold in the sunset light.

"Wonderful!" he cried. "I've never seen anything so lovely."

"Nor I!" said the girl.

"Nor we!" laughed the trees behind them.

"Nor we!" nodded the bushes on the bank in front.

"It is like swimming in the river of forgetfulness," he went on. "All
the past disappears, all that was bitter and evil is washed away, and
we are but two parts of the same beautiful being that surrounds us."

"Yes, it is like that," said the girl, with feeling.

Slowly they came to land.

"It was very narrow, after all," said Olof regretfully, as he turned
from her and went down to fetch his clothes. He dressed as quickly as
he could, and hurried up to her again.

"Let me wring the water from your hair," he begged. She smiled
permission. The water fell like drops of