Johannes Linnankoski

“ A warm flood rose in the young man's breast—like a summer wave washing the sands of an untrodden shore.
The girl's kerchief had fallen from her head. He picked it up and gave it to her. Through the thin stuff their fingers touched; the youth felt a thrill in every limb. Suddenly he grasped her hands, his eyes gazing ardently into hers.
"Annikki!" he whispered. He could find no words for the tumult in his veins. "Annikki!" he gasped again, entreatingly.
A faint flush had risen to her cheeks, but her glance met his calmly and frankly. She pressed his hand in answer. ”

“ Olof breathed hard, as in a moment's respite at the stake, with the lash still threatening above his head.
"Yes, that is your way. You take us—but why will you never take us wholly? You give us money, or fine clothes, a wedding ring even—but never yourselves, never the thing we longed for in you from the first. You look on love as a pastime only; for us, it is life itself. But you never understand, only wash your hands of it all, and go your own ways self-satisfied as ever."
Olof was ashy pale and his eyelids quivered nervously. ”

“ You need not fear pity from me, Olof. I believe in fate, and in life as a thing with some meaning. I have often wondered, these last few years, if there could be any meaning in my life, and why fate had brought us so strangely together. Was it only to make us suffer? I came at last to the conclusion that if there were any meaning in my life, it must be with you; and if fate had any plan at all, it must be that you should come back to me some day, even though the way were hard. And you came, came with the very word I had been waiting to hear from your lips for years—that you had need of me! ”

“ I should have been so happy if we could have been together always; earth would have been like heaven, and none but angels everywhere. And even now I can be so happy, though I only have you in secret. Secretly I say good-night to you, and kiss you, and no one knows that you rest every night in my arms. And, do you know, Olof, there is one thing that is so strange, I hardly know what it means. Now, just lately, I have felt sometimes that you were really here, your living self, sitting beside me and whispering that I was yours, your love, your friend. ”

“ We pass by hundreds, without so much as a glance, until fate as in a lightning flash brings us face to face with the one appointed. And then—in a moment we know that we belong to each other, we are drawn together by magnetic force—for good or ill."
"I have felt the same—and I feel it more keenly now than ever," answered the girl, nestling trustingly close to him. "Each minute in your arms is worth more than all the rest of my life before."
"And you are to me as the sap of the trees in spring, that thrills me with ecstasy and makes me forget all else. ”

“ The eyes are open, but they see only that which the soul is pleased to notice on its way. It will climb like a squirrel to the roof, walk along narrow ridges at a giddy height. It will open windows and lean out over black depths, or play with keen-edged weapons as if they were toys. And the onlooker, in his waking senses, shudders at the sight, realising that it is the soul stealing forth on its nightly wanderings.
So it had been with Olof for a long time now—almost from the time when Kyllikki first became his. ”

“ Then curving to the right, and breaking in foam against the rocky wall of Akeanlinna—a mighty fortress of stone rising straight up in midstream, with a clump of bushes like a helmet plume on its top. The river then divides, the left arm racing in spate down to the mill, the right turning off through a channel blasted out of the rock for the passage of timber going down. A wild piece of water this; the foam dances furiously in the narrow cut, but it ends as swiftly as the joy of life; over a ledge of rock the waves are flung a couple of fathoms down into the whirlpool called Eva's Pool. ”

“ And they come towards you smiling. I am all alone—and they are so many. And they must win—for I can give no more than one woman can. But they are for ever whispering to you of what a woman can give but once in her life—each in her own way...."
"Kyllikki!" Olof broke in imploringly.
But she went on unheeding, pouring out her words like a stream in flood-time.
"And they hate me because I thought to keep you for myself alone. And while you lie in my arms, they come smiling and whispering and thread their arms between us and offer you their lips...." ”

“ In autumn, the swollen waters pour down as from a cornucopia; in winter, folk from the town come driving over the frozen flood, racing one against another; in spring, the river overflows its banks, spreading silt on the meadows as in the land of the Nile; and in summer, the haymakers are lulled by the song of the grasshoppers and the scent of the hay to dream of paradise, where the children of men even now may enter in for some few days in every year. ”

“ Look at him, Kyllikki! Isn't he splendid?" And he turned towards her. "But what—what am I thinking of all the time! Kyllikki, I haven't even kissed you yet. Welcome, dear, welcome a thousand times!"
He took her in his arms. "How well you look—and lovely! Why, you look younger than ever! Little mother—how shall I ever thank you for—this!"
"It was your gift to me," said Kyllikki softly, with a tender glance at the little bed.
Olof led her to a seat, and they talked together in the silent speech of the eyes that is for great moments only. ”

“ I couldn't see if it was right to stop and look at you."
"Now I don't quite understand."
"You can't understand it at all—'twas only something I was trying to think out myself.... But I did stop and look—and 'tis thanks to that I've had this lovely autumn, after all."
"And I, too," whispered the girl.
"Yes, thanks to you, I have learned that autumn can be beautiful as well; lovelier even than the spring—for the autumn is cooler, calmer, and gentler than the spring. And it was then I learned for the first time what it is that makes life beautiful—what it is that human beings seek." ”

“ I believe that in every little grey village there is a quiet, secret happiness, that no one knows."
"Not everywhere, Olof. It is not everywhere there is anyone like you."
"But you! I don't mean to say, of course, it should be just like ours.
But a happiness...."
He drew the girl to him, and their lips met in a long, gentle kiss.
"Can everyone kiss like you?" she whispered shyly, with a tender gleam in her eyes.
"Maybe. I don't know."
"No, no—there's no one in the world like you. None that can talk like you, or kiss like you. Do you know what I always think—always look at, when you kiss me?" ”

“ The smile vanished from the old woman's face. She gazed long and searchingly at her son's haggard chin, his sunken cheeks and loose eyelids, the pale forehead, the furrowed temples—everything.
"Perhaps it has to be," she murmured, as if speaking to someone else. "'And wasted all his substance.... And he said, I will arise and....'"
Her voice trembled, and Olof, in a hasty glance, saw how her wrinkled mouth quivered with emotion. ”

“ He clasped the nearest trees in a burning embrace, offered his hand to those farther off, and gave to them all a sparkling smile.
There was joy on the hillside.
The summer wind told fairy tales from the south. Told of the trees there, how tall they are, how dense the forests, and the earth, how it steams in the heat. How the people are dark as shadows, and their eyes flashing with light. And all the trees in the wood strained their ears to listen.
The cuckoo perched in the red-blossomed pine, near the reddest cluster of all. ”

“ AT SUNRISE "The loveliest hour?" said the fuchsia warmly. "Why, now, give me the night—'tis the best of all."
"I love it too," answered the balsamine. "Whispering here as we are now, alone in the dark, only knowing the other is near, only seeing the gleam of each other's eyes. But the morning, too, is beautiful—at sunrise, when the dewdrops glisten and the leaves quiver in the wakening breeze."
"True, that is true. All times are beautiful, all life. The morning, when the cock crows, and the birds twitter, and the children newly washed come out to play in the yard. ”

“ Olof shuddered in disgust.
"Drink!" he cried. "Drink, and don't sit there talking nonsense."
Then again a revulsion seized him, and with a feeling of despair and weakness, he went on:
"I can't stay here, I must go—I must go in a minute. Never mind.
Drink."
"Oh, let's drink, then," said the girl bitterly, and, rising, emptied her glass. "Drink—yes, and drink and drink—'tis the only thing when once you're—here." She sank down into a seat. "Night and day, morning and night—there's none of us could stand it if it wasn't for that stuff there. Ho, the world's a mad place—what a fool I am!" ”

“ Olof's heart was beating so that he almost feared the rest must hear it. His eyelids quivered, and his brow was furrowed deep as he sat staring into the fire.
"'Tis that way sometimes with fine folk when they're in love," murmured one.
"'Tis a woman's way altogether," put in another, with an attempt at gaiety, as if to dispel the feeling of gloom. "Their heart's like a flimsy fairing—little watch looks all right, but just shake it a bit, and 'tis all to pieces."
"Maybe 'tis so with fine folk and ladies and such, but peasant girls are not so foolish. ”

“ The river-guard, seated on piles of baulks by the waterside, shifted a little.
"But we be lumbermen bold!"
cried the nearest. And the song was passed on from one point to another, from shore to shore, all down the rapids, to the gangs below.
Then all was silent again, for midnight loves not song, though it does demand a call from man to man through the dark. It loves better to listen, while the river tells of the dread sea-monster that yearly craves a human life, whether grown or child, but always a life a year. ”

“ Who cares to think of a book with lines and threads of consequence, when fate is kind, and all seems easy going? I laughed at those who wasted their youth in prayer and fasting. And I laughed at the laws of life, for I could take Love, and enjoy it without fear of any tie—I was proud to feel myself free, to know that none had any claim on me—no child could call me father. ”

“ Independent, choosing her own way—such a nature as old folks say is no good thing for a lad, far less for a girl. But for her.... And in winter-time she would come racing home on ski—rushing into the place and making the doors shake. Then she would jump on my lap, put her cold hands on my shoulders, and look mischievously: 'Why, what's this, brother? As gloomy as a monk again, I declare!' And I should feel happier then, but still a little earnest, and say, 'Maya, Maya, what a child you are! As thoughtless as a boy. ”

“ The men exchanged glances; none seemed wishful to speak.
"Ay, 'tis no light thing to play with," said one at last. "And each knows best what he's learned for himself."
Again a sighing of the trees on the hillside, and a mournful sound from the straining stems. The coming dawn threw a grey light on the rocky face of Neitokallio; far over the meadows a bird was calling.
"Getting light—'tis time we were about," said Olof, rising to his feet. ”

“ Kyllikki lay stretched on the sofa. Olof nodded, and laid himself down with his head in her lap and his feet on a chair by the side.
And two pairs of darkly glistening eyes fell to whispering together, like lonely stars in a dark autumn sky, while the earth sighed through the gloom.
THE SOMNAMBULIST Olof was a sleep-walker, though he never dared to confess it even to himself. There was something mysterious and terrifying in the thought.
A soul that cannot rest, but goes forth when others sleep, on errands of its own; the body follows, but without consciousness. ”

“ Olof stops and hesitates—shall he go to meet her, or turn off? The girl casts down her eyes. He draws nearer—she looks up, and gives him one deep, warm glance, and looks down again—her cheeks flushed.
Olof's face lights up, and he lifts his hat as he passes. Then the crowd surges round him with shouts of applause.
"Bravo! Well done! Here's the man that's beaten Kohiseva! Who's the best man now?"
Vantti steps forward and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Well done, lad! 'Tis plain to see you're not born to be drowned." And the sturdy fellow laughs till his great boots shake. ”

“ She rose up from the sofa, and crossing the room, sat down on a chair close to where Olof was seated. Then, lowering her voice a little, she went on, as if striving with words and look to penetrate his soul:
"We are women—do you know what that means? And we long for love—all of us, good or bad—or, no, there is neither good nor bad among us, we are alike. We long for you, and for love. ”

“ Olof crossed his arms defiantly. "You know who I am well enough. And you're the men to talk of a girl's honour to me—you that hang about outside her window at night—a nice lot to protect her! Mark my words, the lot of you. I go where I please, if 'twas to a princess in a palace. And I'll go the way I went last night as long as I'm here in the place. And as sure as I stand here, if one of you shows his head outside that window, or dares to say a coarse word—ay, or so much as a look to hurt her, I'll thrash him till he can't stand on his feet." ”

“ For it is all a mystery then; the mantle of something wonderful and unknown is over us. And we feel it and thrill at what is coming, and ask ourselves—will it be to-day? Hoping and fearing—and knowing all the time that it will come. Never a thought of past or future, only for the hour that is upon us ... until at last it comes, it comes—petals that blush and unfold, and all things else seem to fade away, and we melt into a glory of warmth and light."
* * * * *
The Spirit of Joy stood quietly smiling by the bed.
The girl's loose hair flowed like black silk over the pillow ”

“ Redjacket's party burst out laughing at this, and all looked at Olof.
He flushes slightly, but says nothing, only bites his lip and turns away to study the river once more.
Redjacket looks at him sneeringly, and, pole in hand, steps out on to the boom, a little way above the bridge. Then, springing over to the raft, he chooses his craft for the voyage—a buoyant pine stem, short and thick, and stripped of its bark.
The young man smiles, with a curious expression, as he looks on.
"Did you see?" whispers one on the bridge to his neighbour. "Mark my words, he knows what he's about." ”

“ There was a pause.
"I won't ask you if you don't like it," she said, after a while. "But if I were sad, and had a friend, I should want to."
"And make your friend sad too—by telling things no friend could understand?"
"Perhaps a friend might try."
But Olof seemed not to have heard. He leaned back, and his glance wandered vaguely.
"Life is very strange," he said dreamily. "Isn't it strange to have cared very much for a thing—and then one day to feel it as nothing at all?" ”

“ But for a long while she said no word, only sat looking as before out into vague distance, as if seeking what to say.
"Ay," she said at last, "'tis right to marry where you love, and no other. But a servant-girl—there's none of our race ever married that way before. And as for love—you're over young to know."
Olof flushed angrily, and he would have spoken, but the noble dignity of his mother's glance checked the thought ere it was uttered. ”

“ I think that human beings are endlessly rich and deep, like Nature itself, that is always young, and only changes from one season to another. All that has happened to me before seems now only the rising of sap in spring. Now summer comes for the first time—all calm and warmth and happiness. I have been like a fairy palace, with a splendid hall to which none could find the key. But you had it all the time—the others could enter this little room or that, but only you had the key to the best of all."
"Is it really true, Olof? ”

“ The girl bent lower over the flower.
"She has but a single flower—so neat and sweet," she whispered, pressing her delicate lips to the pale posy petals just unfolded.
"She has but a single friend—so tender and dear," smiled the flower in answer, nodding slowly over toward the fields.
A tall youth on ski came gliding by, his cap at the back of his head, and a knapsack strapped at his shoulders. ”