CHAPTER XXVIII.
POUBALOV SUCCEEDS.
Her indecision was but momentary. Every nerve tingling withapprehension, her arms straining to embrace her lover and allayhis suffering, she threw open the door at her right hand. Dustyfurniture, faded hangings confronted her, nothing else. Aroused by thedisappointment to a fever of anxiety and energy, she laid her hand uponthe other door, and above the rattling of the knob she heard again thefaint moan. The door was locked, and it merely creaked complaininglywhen she exerted all the pressure she could bring to bear against it.
She must work quickly. Holding the candle parallel to the floor, sheallowed several drops of the melted tallow to fall, and on them shefastened her tiny torch upright. Then she applied her keys, one afterthe other, to the lock. It was a commonplace lock, a boot-buttonerwould have worked it, and the most commonplace key in her collection atlast turned freely and shot back the bolt. She threw the door open andrushed in, and as she passed, her flying skirts whisked out the candleflame and she was in darkness, but in the flashing glance she had hadof the room she had seen the figure of a man bound to a chair, a clothwound about his head and across his mouth.
Clara did not seek the prisoner in the darkness. All impulse to rushforward and throw her arms about him had vanished; in its place was anicy chill at the heart and an infinite sob that lodged in her throatand would not out. Hastily still but with nerveless limbs she stoopedand felt for the candle, and, having found it, she again brought itswick to flickering life and raised it from the floor. Standing thenupon the threshold, one hand clutching the jamb, she made certainthat the fleeting vision of surprise and disappointment was bitter andamazing reality. The man bound upon the chair was old Dexter.
He turned upon her his blinking eyes, rendered sightless for the momentby the mild glare of the candle flame. He could stir no other part ofhis body by so much as a hair's breadth. A long rope was coiled manytimes about him, binding his legs to the chair rungs, his arms to hisside, and his head to the back of the chair. A pitiful groan gurgledagain in his throat as Clara held up the candle and looked at him.
She stood thus not longer than a second, and then, having placed thecandle in a cup that stood on the mantel, she sought to loose him.That he was concerned in some way with Ivan's disappearance she couldnot doubt, but she allowed herself no thought or hesitation on thataccount. His evident suffering appealed to her, and she plied herfingers hard and fast to undo the rope. The knot was at his back andit had not been drawn extremely taut, the numerous coils in themselvesbeing almost sufficient to hold the prisoner in his place. Veryshortly, therefore, she had the free ends of the rope in hand, and sheunwound them from Dexter's arms, still standing behind his back andworking above his head. When with his own hands he began to loose thecoils from his lower limbs, she untied the handkerchief that held thegag in his mouth, and Dexter was free.
He arose trembling. His limbs were stiff with long constraint and hesteadied himself by grasping the back of the chair and leaning upon it.Breathing heavily and muttering unintelligible curses he turned slowlyabout and peered into Clara's eyes.
"Ha!" he gasped, "it's you, is it!"
His eyes, till then glowing with the rage of a baffled will, now flamedwith ungovernable hate. Clara, all her resolution gone, her very lifeseeming to depart from her, yet stood ready to do what she could tohelp him, when with a passionate shriek he suddenly extended histhin quivering hands and seized her violently by the throat. Takenby surprise, her nervous energy exhausted by the long strain and itsattendant disappointments, Clara made but slight resistance. Dexterclutched her with the desperate strength of a maniac and pushed herback against the wall.
What with the noise they made in moving across the floor, and Dexter'ssnarling curses, she did not hear the sound of rapidly approachingsteps along the corridor; but just as the frenzied old man had pressedher against the wall, and when it seemed as if his fingers would lockinextricably upon her throat, Poubalov dashed into the room, laid holdof Dexter, wrenched him away from her, picked him up bodily, bore himscreaming across the chamber and threw him heavily upon a bed. Then heplaced his hand over the old man's mouth and looked around. Clara wasnow held hard and fast by another man, and although Poubalov's eyesglittered with a fierce light, he made no effort to interfere. PaulPalovna appeared in the doorway, his weary face glowing with joy as helooked upon his friend restored at last to the arms of her who lovedhim.
After a moment Strobel raised his head, and Clara, still embracing him,followed his eyes with her own, almost unbelieving that this meetingwas reality. She turned her gaze with Ivan's to where Poubalov sat onthe bed forcibly quieting the ravings of old Dexter.
"Miss Hilman," said the spy in his deepest tones, "you have been thehardest adversary I ever encountered. Last evening you gave me twoalternatives of action. You told me to take you to your lover, or youwould pursue me relentlessly. You have made it a desperately hard taskfor me, but to some extent at least I have succeeded in evading bothalternatives, and have, instead, brought your lover to you."
Clara turned her wondering eyes to Ivan's for confirmation andexplanation.
"It is true, dearest," he said. "We owe my deliverance to Poubalov, andwithout his efforts I shudder to think what would have happened to me."
"Is it possible," asked Clara in a subdued voice, "that you have reallybeen trying to find Ivan all along?"
"Miss Hilman," replied Poubalov, "until this Monday morning I did notknow where Mr. Strobel was, and I had not the least suspicion of thetruth until late last Friday night."
"Let me sit down," said Clara faintly, "I cannot grasp it all. Tell me,Ivan."
Ivan had conducted her to the chair wherein she had found Dexter aprisoner, and at her last words Poubalov turned away his head with abitter smile. Not even yet would she trust him to speak the truth!
"We owe our separation," said Ivan, "to the villain who lies thereunder Poubalov's hand and to him alone. To Poubalov we owe thedeliverance. This man Dexter, Clara, is a money lender of the mostoutrageous type. Your uncle, to tide over a business depression,borrowed nearly a hundred thousand dollars from him. This debt wasdue to Dexter two days after what was to have been our wedding. I amtelling you what Poubalov learned after his suspicions were attractedin the right direction. Tell her, my friend! You can do it better thanI."
"Miss Hilman will not believe me," replied Poubalov.
"Oh, but I will!" cried Clara starting from the chair impulsively asshe realized the situation. She went to the bed where the spy still satwith his hand over Dexter's mouth, and held out her hand. "Won't youforgive me?" she faltered; "I know I have cruelly misjudged you."
Poubalov raised her hand to his lips and was about to answer whenDexter, the pressure removed from his mouth, scrambled to his knees,clinging to the Russian for support, and screamed, "Pay me! payme! you're not married yet and you've got to pay me! I'll ruin MatPembroke! Pay me! I'll----"
The old man choked, pawed with both palsied hands at his collar andwould have fallen from the bed if Poubalov had not turned hastily fromClara and caught him. Clara shrank away, not terrified but shocked atDexter's appearance, while Palovna hurried across the room to lend ahand.
"He is dying!" exclaimed Clara faintly.
"No, Miss Hilman, not dying," responded Poubalov quickly, "but he isa very sick man. Thanks, Paul Palovna, but I can get on better withhim alone. You may go ahead of me, if you please, and try to find aphysician----"
"I saw a doctor's sign near the street corner," interrupted Palovna.
"Summon him at once, then," said Poubalov who was bearing old Dexter astenderly as a nurse might carry a sick child; "I will await you at thedoor and," addressing Clara, "be with you here in a moment if you wouldhear the hidden history of your troubles."
"Better here, sweetheart," whispered Strobel, "here where I passed myweek of death than in any other place!"
It was several minutes before Poubalov returned. He carried Dexternot only to the door but t
hrough the street to the physician's housewhere medical skill was promptly applied with a view to restoring themiser's wreck of a body to something like life. If Dexter's coursehad run tranquilly he might, perhaps, have lingered like a noxiousweed, for a long time upon the earth, but after the complex shocksof disappointment, imprisonment and fear, he had thrown the total ofhis nervous and physical energies into that mad attack upon Clara.There remained, then, but the dregs of his vicious vitality, and thesesustained him less than the length of the night. He was still alivebut the end was plainly in sight when Poubalov left him to rejoin thelovers.
"Miss Hilman," he said the moment he came in, "your judgment of me hasbeen marvellously correct. It is true that you have erred in detailand believed me deceiving you when I was doing my utmost to put thetruth before you; but it is impossible for me to be straightforward.Mr. Strobel has said that his deliverance is due to me; that is true,but no credit is due me for generosity or nobility of conduct. What Ihave done in the way of searching for him and restoring him to liberty,has been done entirely in accordance with my nature. My desire toappear well in your eyes might lead me to vain reflections on what mynature might have been if the circumstances of my life had been otherthan they were, but past circumstances cannot be changed and nothingcan palliate the fact that long practice as a detecter of stealthycriminals has made me habitually devious in my methods."
"Mr. Poubalov," Clara began gently, but the Russian would not let herutter the deprecating words that were on her lips.
"I could not change my methods," he said, "and moreover, there werecircumstances connected with this matter that made it impossible for meto take you fully into my confidence. Don't you recall how I refused toanswer, or evaded your questions? I would not lie to you, and I couldnot tell you the truth, for I was charged with a message from the czarto Mr. Strobel and to none other could I give it, and not to him unlessI were satisfied of certain things, which, until Litizki's attempt uponmy life were in doubt."
"You must have suffered keenly," said Clara softly; "tell me all now ifyou can."
"His imperial majesty, whom God preserve," resumed Poubalov, "saw fitto effect a complete restoration of the estates of the Strobel family,which had been confiscated on account of supposed treason, and torecall all the members of the family from exile. There was but onedoubt in his august mind, and that related to your lover, Ivan. If hewere engaged in sending pernicious literature to Russia, or in anyother way fomenting the discontent that affects some of our people, thedecree of restoration could not issue. I came to America solely todiscover what Ivan Strobel was doing and thinking. I could not leavethe country until I had found him unless I chose to disregard thewishes of my sovereign. Therefore, when he disappeared, I bent everyenergy to finding him. It is the habit of men like Litizki to invest mein their imaginations with extraordinary if not superhuman powers, andit is a part of my policy to encourage their delusion. But I am onlyan ordinary man, Miss Hilman, and in your hands I have proved to be asweak as the weakest."
He paused and looked somberly at the floor.
"I have been sadly puzzled by this case," he continued after a momentwithout raising his eyes; "nothing ever seemed so impenetrable amystery. I was sincere in thinking the Nihilists had had something todo with it. After seeing you I was certain that no other woman couldhave led Strobel away; but I went to New York for much the same reasonthat you did, I suppose, hoping for some clew. I had about given upthe Nihilistic theory when Litizki's assault and some inquiries I madeshortly after, set that at rest completely. When Billings called atyour house I determined to track him. Why not tell you then about it?Ask yourself if you would have believed me. You would have said that Iwas already in league with Billings."
"I did think so," murmured Clara guiltily.
"And I presume you thought I was afraid to face him. Yes? Then you seenow that I had to operate alone. I was hiding in the shrubbery whenhe left your house. It was dark, but you lingered at the gate and soprevented me from leaving my place of concealment until Billings hadgot so far away that I could not find him. But I had seen his face. Ireadily saw that Litizki was following me that night and I purposelygave him a chase in order to mask my real purpose.
"When we left the train in the Park Square Station after our returnfrom New York on Friday evening, I recognized Billings among those uponthe station platform. I left you abruptly to follow him. He waitedfor the next New York train which followed us in directly, for we werelate, you remember, and there met the wretch whom you found imprisonedhere. I will not enter into the details of my all-night watching andinquiring, but will confine myself to the results. First, to jump overseveral steps, I found that Dexter was going to pack Billings off toEurope, and I followed to the steamer, hoping for a chance to speakwith Billings, for I can usually worm or frighten secrets from guiltymen. Dexter stuck closely to him, however, and I returned from a tripto Boston Light having seen both Billings and Litizki in the steerage."
"Litizki!" exclaimed Clara.
"Yes. By tracking Dexter and employing my usual methods, I gotacquainted with his man, Patterson. It was he who overcame Mr. Strobelin the closed carriage a week ago to-day, and who left him there boundand stupefied by a drug that he had forced down his throat while hewent through the Park Square Station to give color to the theory thatDexter gave to the police that Strobel had gone to New York. Dexter atfirst declared that he had seen Strobel buy his ticket, but later heweakened on that point, saying he might have been mistaken. He had saidenough for Detective Bowker, however, and the police investigation waspursued half heartedly.
"Well, I looked up Dexter's affairs and I found that he had a grip onMr. Pembroke."
"Don't tell me my uncle was guilty of----"
"No, Miss Hilman," interrupted Poubalov, "Mr. Pembroke had nothing todo with the abduction of Mr. Strobel. Dexter is the one villain in thecase, and although Mr. Pembroke's conduct may be open to question inone respect, criticism would be finical for I don't see how he couldhave acted otherwise. I shall have to go back a long way now, but Iwill be brief. Matthew Pembroke had a brother, Charles, and a sister,Sophie. You, Miss Hilman, are her daughter. You know, of course, thefamily difference and the occasion of it. Your mother married againstthe wishes of your Uncle Charles, her elder brother and her guardian,and when she was left a widow he declined to help her. Your UncleMatthew was kinder, and when she died he took you into his own home.Charles was apparently relentless to the end, and there was never anycommunication between you and him; but when he died, a short time ago,it was found that he had remembered you in his will. Two days beforethe wedding day Mr. Pembroke was notified that you were heiress to onehundred thousand dollars if you were unmarried. The will provided thatin the event of your being a maiden, the entire sum was to be held byMatthew Pembroke, and administered by him in your interest. If you weremarried, twenty-five thousand dollars was to be set aside for you, andthe balance was to go to educational institutions specifically named.
"Mr. Pembroke was worrying about his obligation to Dexter, which hecould not meet, and in his fretting he mentioned this to Dexter. Hedid not tell you at first, because he feared you might think you oughtto postpone your wedding, and he did not regard such etiquette asnecessary. Without saying a word to Pembroke, this wretch, Dexter,plotted and effected the abduction, thus compelling you to remaina maiden. The bequest was immediately available and he brought allpossible pressure to bear upon Mr. Pembroke to make use of it forwiping out the debt. It was absolute ruin to him if he did not. Mr.Pembroke suspected Dexter, but what could he do? He had nothing butimprobable conjecture to work upon, and Dexter applied the screwsmercilessly. They went to New York to make arrangements for collectingthe inheritance. While there they were both in terror lest you discoverthe truth, for once at least you saw them with the man who could haverevealed the financial secret of the situation. You remember lookingin at the hotel entrance and seeing Dexter, your uncle and a third manwalking in the corridor? The third man was the executor of
your UncleCharles' estate, and Dexter walked him out of your sight as quickly aspossible, lest troublesome questions should be asked.
"It all came down to this, at last, that with your signature to-day toa document that the executors of the estate had prepared, and whichyou would have signed readily at your uncle's request, the moneywould have been turned over. The document came in the first mail, butDexter did not turn up, and Mr. Pembroke could not find him. That wasbecause, shortly after breakfast, I came here and found the villain,at last, giving Strobel sufficient nourishment to keep him alive. Ibound him to the chair, but didn't release Strobel at the moment. Aftera mental struggle that I will not describe, I had determined to takehim to you, Miss Hilman, and I was too proud to permit my plans to bebalked. Moreover, I believed your uncle guilty, and I was determinedthat everybody who had been concerned in making you unhappy, shouldsuffer the most extreme tortures that I could inflict. I had alreadybought and frightened Patterson. It was through him that I discoveredthis place, a hotel Dexter had seized for debt. After I had succeededin eluding your pursuit this morning, I attacked Mr. Pembroke. I spentnearly the whole afternoon with him, and, to be brief, I got the storyfrom him and drove him to the verge of insanity. He does not know yetwhat happened to Strobel, although he is aware that he is safe.
"Having thus punished Mr. Pembroke, unjustly I will admit, to someextent, I came here and took away Strobel. He was very weak andsuffering from the drug which had frequently been administered tohim with his food. I am familiar with such matters, and I had in myroom an antidote. By your attempted pursuit of me you had preventedme from going there to get it, so I had to take Strobel with me toBulfinch Place before restoring him to you. We had a little scene atthe lodging-house----" Poubalov paused here and glanced with a smile atPalovna.
"Is it any wonder, Alexander Poubalov?" cried Palovna, flushing; "Iregarded you as our enemy, and when I saw you with Strobel helpless inyour possession, my worst suspicions were confirmed. I----"
"You could have shot me with a clear conscience! I understand and Iunderstood then. You are a loyal friend, Paul Palovna, and I owe youmy life, not on this occasion, perhaps, but at that other time--nomatter! The past is past and things are as they are! The short of itis, Miss Hilman, that we satisfied Palovna that matters were not as badas they looked, and, as you see, he came along with us. We went to Mr.Pembroke's. As you were not there, we came directly here. And that, Ithink, is the whole story."
Clara was weeping silently, and Ivan stood with his arm around her.There was a moment of silence, and then the party was disturbed bya hubbub in the hall below. It proved to be nothing serious. Mikehad been ordered by his employer to return. He, too, had called atMr. Pembroke's and so found his way to the tavern, and coming uponPatterson he had proceeded to thump him. Poubalov separated theantagonists, and went back to the chamber with the candle. The othersstood under the porch, for the front door had been opened by Patterson,until he returned.
"If there is anything more to be said," he remarked, "we'd better go toMr. Pembroke's."
Poubalov did not remain long with the lovers whom he had reunited.The supreme will of his imperial majesty, he gravely declared, wouldnot permit of his lingering a moment after the accomplishment of hismission. It would give him profound pleasure to report that Mr. Strobelwas too firmly attached to America to feel, much less commit hostilityto the empire of the czar. And so he took his leave, Clara alonerealizing that all well-meant efforts to detain him were calculated togive him needless pain.
Mr. Pembroke recovered rapidly under the relief occasioned by thereappearance of Ivan, for whose absence he felt vaguely accountable.With the death of Dexter the business pressure was so far relieved thathe could see his way clear from the trouble, for all he had needed wasthe time to turn in that the wretched miser would not grant.
But little time was allowed to elapse before the strange interlude inClara's wedding was brought to an end. A few days after the ceremonyIvan read a brief cable dispatch announcing the arrival of theCephalonia at Queenstown.
"A steerage passenger," it said, "traveling as Nicolaievitch, but knownto be one Litizki, of Boston, jumped from the rail and was drownedshortly after the steamer sighted the Irish coast."
"Poor Litizki!" thought Ivan, "he died for us," and he cut the item outto show to his wife if at some time she should ask whether anything hadbeen heard of the little tailor.
[THE END.]