CHAPTER XIII.
WHAT BECAME OF LITIZKI.
Clara retired before her uncle returned, and when at last he appeared,it was only to pack his bag and hurry away to catch the midnight trainfor New York.
"I may be gone a week," he told Louise, "and I may get back in twodays. Telegraph me at the Travelers' Hotel, if I am wanted foranything."
Mr. Pembroke's departure was a great disappointment to Clara. Shereproached herself that she had not made an opportunity to tell himabout her conversation with Poubalov and Litizki; it was his right toknow everything that could possibly bear upon the case, and could shehave told him, she would have besought him to advise her.
She was now in a bewildering maze of doubts and uncertainties. Billingshad lied to her; she was almost as sure of that as if she had alreadyproved it; but at what part of his story the falsehood began she couldonly guess. There was no doubt that Ivan had taken Billings' carriage.Did he give the driver orders to go to the Park Square Station? DidBillings drive to the station? The latter question she could answerwith some degree of satisfaction by inquiry of the man O'Brien, andthat seemed the first thing to do; but what then?
Poubalov had called to say something, and had not only gone awaywithout saying it, but had gone in such wise as to leave no reasonabledoubt that he dared not face the driver of the closed carriage. Wasit not an inevitable inference that Billings had been hired by theRussian? It was with evident difficulty that Billings had stumbledthrough the story as it was. Would not Poubalov, recognizing thedriver's mental inferiority, have argued that if they were suddenlybrought face to face, Billings would have betrayed their complicity byat least a start?
And Litizki, what had become of him? It was not to be thought of thathe had abandoned the case. Poubalov had called at his shop during theday, unquestionably with some ulterior design. Could anything be morereasonable than to suppose that in some way the spy had frustrated theattempt of Litizki to help her?
The more she pondered the various puzzling aspects of the case, themore everything seemed to center upon Poubalov, and she shuddered withapprehension as Litizki's characterization of him recurred to her. Hewas, indeed, a terrible enemy.
Having in mind only the known facts in the case, and disregardingutterly all inferences and conjectures, she tried to reason alongvarious lines, in the hope that thus a theory might be set upwhich should command sufficient respect to justify a new departurein her search. She began with the fact that Ivan had made everypreparation for marriage--and there a new thought presented itself.He had surrendered his room; he must, therefore, have packed hisbelongings; had they been disturbed? This might be a matter of infinitesignificance, and one that she would attend to without delay.
"Louise," she said (they were at the breakfast table and her cousin waslingering over her coffee while Clara was absorbed in thought), "willyou go downtown with me again to-day?"
"Of course, dear," replied Louise; "I will be ready in ten minutes."
Louise was relieved at Clara's suggestions. She had been hopelesslywondering what Clara could find to do next, and she dreaded for hercousin's health should there prove to be no active work upon which shecould concentrate her faculties. She left the room to prepare for theday's jaunt, and Clara resumed her thinking.
Every preparation for marriage, and a start actually made for thechurch. Then an accident that somebody had prepared. Who? There musthave been somebody who had a great object to attain in preventingthe marriage, or in getting possession of Ivan. Suppose it werePoubalov, what then? With the insight he himself had given her intohis character, would he not do everything possible to throw her offthe right track? If he had abducted Ivan, would he hesitate to abductLitizki if he found that the little tailor was in his way?
It was vain to speculate for a reason for Poubalov's main action; thatmust lie in his capacity as a paid spy of a government with which Ivan,apparently, had been at one time in conflict. His subsequent actions,so far as she knew them, were all explainable on the theory that he hadhad to do with Ivan's disappearance.
And so her thoughts revolved around Poubalov, finding at every turn atrace of obliquity that was wholly in consonance with his character andhis confessed methods.
Clara felt that her reasoning was bringing her to no definite end,although her brain teemed with courses of action that might have beenpossible could she have commanded the services of a corps of shrewd,faithful detectives. It is generally so with persons who have agreat task to accomplish; they find themselves with more plans thanresources, more brains than hands. Clara had just come to the sensibleconclusion that, compelled to work substantially alone, she wouldundertake exactly one thing at a time, and, having chosen a line ofinquiry, would follow it uninterruptedly to the end, when a servantannounced that a man had called to see her.
"I couldn't catch his name, Miss Clara," said the servant, "but I'mafraid he's a beggar, he looks so forlorn and seedy."
Clara knew who it was and she sprang from her chair with more eagernessand animation than she had manifested at any time since the disastrouswedding day. She fairly ran into the drawing-room, both her handsextended, her face radiant with smiles, and completely overwhelmed poorLitizki with the warmth of her greeting.
"I was so afraid something dreadful had happened to you!" sheexclaimed, "but I knew that you had not deserted me."
"Deserted you?" said Litizki huskily; "no, but I was afraid you wouldthink so. I didn't know what Poubalov might have told you, and unlessyou thoroughly understand that man, that fiend, Miss Hilman, he islikely to make you believe anything."
"Then you know that he had been here! You must have recognized his hatin the hall."
"I saw it there and his stick, too, but I knew before then that he hadbeen here. I came to tell you."
Litizki paused, the look of grateful relief that had overspread hisfeatures at first giving way to his customary depressed expression,and he fell into his habit of speaking with averted eyes, or with butoccasional furtive glances at the person addressed.
"Do tell me," said Clara; "I have been very anxious about you."
Litizki thought a moment, and then asked:
"May I see Poubalov's cane?"
"To be sure," replied Clara, and she brought it to him from the hall.
Litizki took it, looked it over, felt along the top, and suddenly drewforth the handle, from which a gleaming blade depended. Clara startedback with a low exclamation of alarm. Litizki touched the edge of theblade with his thumb, as a man tests a razor.
"Alexander Poubalov," he murmured gloomily, "held this over my heartonce, not so long ago."
He thrust it back into its sheath, where it came to rest with an angryclick, and handed the cane to Clara.
"That is the kind of man he is, Miss Hilman," he said; "I thought youmight like to know."
If he had wished to impress Clara with the horrible gravity of thesituation, with its frightful possibilities, he succeeded beyondmeasure. She held the cane, feeling that it epitomized the spy'scareer, and a dreadful faintness depressed her which she at lengthovercame with the utmost difficulty. Having returned the concealedweapon to the hall, she sank into a chair and asked Litizki to tell herwhat had happened to him during the previous evening.
"You asked me to call early," he began, "and I set out to do so.Without going into unnecessary detail, I will say that I came up thestreet that ends nearly in front of this house, a little after seveno'clock. The exact time doesn't matter, for you will know as nearly asyou need to when I tell you that just as I was about to cross the roadI saw Poubalov in front of me. He had come by another route. I wasn'tsurprised, for the man seems to read one's thoughts, and it was as ifhe had known that I was coming, and had determined to prevent me.
"I doubted whether it would be wise to call as long as he was in theneighborhood, but all doubts were set at rest when he himself went upthe steps and rang. Of course it would have been the height of follyfor me to enter the house then."
"You had
the right to," interrupted Clara; "I had asked you to come,and I needed you very much."
Litizki looked so miserable that Clara hastened to add:
"I didn't mean to reprove or find fault, Mr. Litizki. I forgot for themoment everything except that eventually, after Poubalov had run away,I wished you were at hand!"
"I hope I made no mistake, Miss Hilman," said Litizki; "at all events Icould see no other course at the time than to do what I did."
"I have no doubt you were right. Go on, please."
"I determined to wait until Poubalov went away. If I had been familiarwith the house, I might have found my way to the back door and sentword to you by a servant, but I dared not venture, for I knew not fromwhat window Poubalov might be looking. The same reason induced me toleave the street, which is clearly in view from some windows, and,moreover, I did not care to risk questions from anybody as to why Iwas loitering about. So I slipped into the adjoining grounds, wherethere is a lot of shrubbery, and crawled under a tree whose brancheshung low.
"From where I lay I could see whether anybody entered or left the houseby the front door and I also saw all the windows on one side. I hadbeen there less than a minute when somebody went up the steps and wasadmitted. I could not see who it was, for the evening was cloudy and itgrew dark very quickly."
"It was a man named Billings," said Clara; "he drove the closedcarriage which took Mr. Strobel from Park Street."
"Indeed! I wish I had known it. Well, events happened pretty quicklyjust then, for it seemed to me that less than another minute had passedwhen Poubalov appeared at one of the windows on the side of the house.He raised it, stepped out, and leaped over the hedge, not five yardsfrom where I lay. He passed so close to me that I could have reachedout from under the tree and tripped him up! I lay very still, wonderingwhat his action could mean, for as you must know, he was bareheaded. IfI had dreamed then of going to the house, I could not have done so, forhe crouched down by the hedge near the street, and I could see that hehad his eyes on the door and that he was waiting. I then determined tofollow him wherever he should go, for of course he meditated villainy.I may have prevented him in that---- Oh! I don't know!"
Litizki fairly groaned these words, and Clara was about to utter ananxious inquiry, when he resumed:
"Don't let me disturb you, Miss Hilman; I will tell the whole wretchedstory. How long we lay there I don't know, but you must, for at lastyou, I think it was you, came out of the house and walked down to thegate to say good-night to somebody who left you there--Billings Isuppose--and walked away in a direction opposite to us. You, was ityou? Yes, you waited a moment, and returned to the house, whereuponPoubalov immediately got up, leaped over the hedge, darted across theroad as noiselessly as if he were a cat, and disappeared.
"I followed as well as I could, and, as luck would have it, I soonovertook him, for he was strolling along slowly, as unconcerned as ifhe owned a house near by and were out for a breath of fresh air. Herambled on until he came to Washington Street, when he stopped at thecurb and looked idly about for several seconds. There were many peopleabout, and his bareheaded condition attracted attention. All the shopswere open, and suddenly he darted into one of them. It was not a hatstore, but when he came out, which was almost immediately, he had a haton. I suppose he bought it for an extravagant sum off the head of somestranger. It would be like him.
"He idled about the neighborhood for as much as an hour, Miss Hilman,and I did all that I could think of to keep him in view withoutexposing myself. The man is a fiend with a million eyes! But wait,I'll tell you. At last he moved along, and, of course, I followedfaithfully, noting every turn, that I might be able to go again bythe same way if possible, or at least to the same place, whereverthat might be. For in spite of my care I don't know what was hisdestination, if he had any. It is for this reason that I say I may haveprevented him from some fresh villainy.
"At last, in a street to which I could readily return, he paused. Iwas across the way from him, and I slipped into a doorway, where Iwas wholly in the dark. I could see him, though, and for a long, longtime he paced slowly back and forth, never once speaking to anybody,or looking about, or getting out of my sight. It didn't matter to me.I would have stayed on till I starved in my tracks, but eventually hecrossed the street directly toward me. He could not see me, of thatI am certain, but of course he had seen me--and--I am a helpless,good-for-nothing fool, Miss Hilman!"
"Why say that?" asked Clara kindly.
"Because he came straight into the doorway, put his hand lightly on myshoulder and said in that deep, scornful voice of his: 'It is enough,Nicholas Litizki. Let us now go home,' and he laughed disagreeably."
Litizki stared aside with an expression of utter self-contempt.
"I weakly said to myself that it was a ruse to get rid of me, and Ifollowed again as he walked briskly away. He took a street car and wentstraight to his room in Bulfinch Place. It was past midnight, and so Icame this morning, Miss Hilman."