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Mīka´pi had sunk deep in the water. The swift current carried him along, and when he rose to the surface he was beyond his enemies. For some time he floated on, but the arrow in his leg pained him and at last he crept out on a sandbar. He managed to draw the arrow from his leg, and finding at the edge of the bar a dry log, he rolled it into the water, and keeping his hands on it, drifted down the river with the current. Cold and stiff from his wounds, he crept out on the bank and lay down in the warm sunshine. Soon he fell asleep.,"Tin,—money," explains he.,"What is it?" asks he, quick to notice any change in her.,Still, she grows a little pale and dispirited after a while, for,"Oh, no! it is not that! you must know it is not that," says Mona, in deep grief. "It is that I cannot marry you!","The boys send it to me. Anything new that comes out, or anything they think will suit my voice, they post to me at once.",Still evening on, and twilight gray,And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue,She turns through a broken gap into a ploughed field, and breaks into a quick run.,"I hardly think so. You can refuse to see people yourself when it suits you. Only yesterday, when Mr. Boer, our rector, called, and I sent for you, you would not come.","I am sure I could," says Nolly, bestowing upon her a grateful glance, after which he starts upon his errand with suspicious alacrity.,Again she has grown silent, as though oppressed with thought; and he too is mute, but all his mind is crowded with glad anticipations of what the near future is to give him. He has no regrets, no fears. At length, struck by her persistent taciturnity, he says, "What is it, Mona?".