But the Finlander had apparently foreseen this, and for that reason we were lying safe from observation in the deep shadow of an overhanging tree.
A gray mist was slowly rising from the water, and the Finn, noticing it, hoped that it might favor us.

In Finland in late autumn the mists are often as thick as our proverbial London fogs, only whiter, denser, and more frosty.
"If we disembark we shall be compelled to make a detour of fully four days in the forest, in order to pass the marshes," he pointed out in a low whisper.

"But if we can enter the river we can go ashore anywhere and get by foot to some place where the lady can lie in hiding." "What do you advise?
We are entirely in your hands.

The Chief of Police told me he could trust you." "I think it will be best to risk it," he said in Russian after a brief pause.

"We will tie up the boat, and I will go along the bank and see what the guards are doing.