CHAPTER VI.
LITIZKI AT WORK.
"It would have been perfectly natural," continued Poubalov, "forStrobel to suspect me at first blush of evil intentions, and I presumehe did so; for, without inquiring what brought me to America and tohim, he took pains to remind me that he was within the jurisdiction ofthe United States, and that it was not his purpose to set foot outsidethe limits of your country, of which I presume he is by this time acitizen."
"He has taken out his first papers," replied Clara.
"And, therefore, should have felt himself secure from one who,supposing he were hostile, yet acted as the official of a foreign anda friendly government. I give you credit, Miss Hilman, of drawing acorrect conclusion from that statement of relations."
Poubalov paused, and Clara responded slowly:
"It ought to mean that he had other enemies than you or those whom yourepresent."
"Exactly; but why do you hedge--pardon the term--why do you set forththe conclusion with reservation? 'It ought to mean,' is what you said.Why not say it does mean?"
"Because I do not know whether you are telling me the truth."
Poubalov leaned back in his chair, and his dark face was momentarilyillumined by an amused smile.
"May I light a cigarette?" he asked in a tone that seemed to say howpatient he was under this continuance of suspicion that not even reasoncould dissipate. It was as if he had said, "With all your unexpectedcleverness as a logician, Miss Hilman, you are yet a woman, and youcling desperately to woman's reasonless intuitions."
"Oh, pardon me if I am cruelly unjust," cried Clara, as clearly thewoman in her quick relenting as she was in following her intuitions;"have patience with me! You must know how distressed I am, and how hardit is to think clearly. Your very admission that you are a paid spysuggests deceit and trickery--I suppose I am making the matter worse."
"By no means, Miss Hilman," replied Poubalov, holding a cigarettebetween his fingers; "we shall come to an understanding presently, Iam sure. I never take offense, not even when my loyalty to the czar isdoubted; and nothing you may say will prevent me from doing what I canto clear away the mystery surrounding Mr. Strobel."
"Please light your cigarette," said Clara; "if you wouldn't make metalk, we should get on better."
Poubalov smiled again, and when he had puffed a great cloud of fragrantsmoke from his lips, he resumed:
"I will proceed as if you cherished no doubts as to my sincerity. Itfollows, from my analysis, that Mr. Strobel could have had no fear ofharm coming to him from an official of Russia. He never had reasonto fear me as an individual; in fact, the individuality of AlexanderPoubalov long since disappeared in the person of the official agent.Poubalov has no enmities, no friendships; all men are hostile orfriendly to him, as they are the enemies or the adherents of the czar,whom God preserve! The next step in the analysis is to suggest thenature of Mr. Strobel's present enemies. You did not tell me so, but Ipresume you are aware that when Mr. Strobel was younger he permittedhis generous sympathies to be enlisted in what he would then havecalled 'the people's party' of Russia. Without going into details withwhich every intelligent person is more or less familiar, I will remindyou that, incidental to the so-called democratic movement in Russia,was the organization of a secret society the avowed purpose of whichwas the disruption of the empire."
Poubalov paused, and puffed at his cigarette deliberately.
"You want me to say something," cried Clara in desperation, "and Idon't know what to say."
"Pardon me," said the spy, suavely, "a woman of your cleverness willnot resent it when I tell you that you misstate your difficulty. Youcould say much, perhaps, but you are afraid to."
Clara's silence was an admission that Poubalov had spoken correctly,and after giving her ample time to deny his accusation, he continued:
"You are afraid--and again you will pardon plain language--that youwill involve your lover in fresh difficulties. Let me point out againthat, so far as his offenses against the government of the czar areconcerned, they were purely political offenses, and he is therefore ina perfectly secure asylum as long as he is on American soil, whetherhe be simply a refugee or a naturalized citizen. You must seek forhis enemies, Miss Hilman, elsewhere than among the representatives ofRussian authority."
"You give me too much credit for cleverness," said Clara, "for I cannotfollow you."
"You know that the secret society to which I referred adopted the termnihilism as a definition of its principles, do you not? And you mustknow, even if Mr. Strobel never told you so, that the Nihilists werebound by the most awful oaths never to betray the secrets of theirassociation."
"Do you mean to say that Mr. Strobel was a Nihilist?"
"Certainly; that was what I was driving at from the beginning. It wasfor that he was compelled to fly from Russia, and that is why he cannotreturn to his native land. The government has done much to stamp outthe curse of nihilistic propaganda, and many members of the societyhave fled. Some are in Switzerland, some in England, others are here,here in Boston. Far from the field of their evil machinations, theycherish still their destructive ambitions as applied to Russia; and,Miss Hilman, they still keep watch on one another. It would fare illwith any Nihilist in America should he venture to betray his formerassociates in any way."
"I suppose I understand you now" said Clara, slowly. "You mean thatI must look for Ivan's enemies among the Russian exiles who live inBoston."
"Or elsewhere in America."
"If he really were connected with them in Russia, he would be the lastman to betray them."
"Doubtless; but would they credit him with such loyalty? May they nothave imagined that, under certain circumstances, he might be induced tobetray them? And may they not have conveyed such definite and fearfulthreats that he found it necessary to disappear?"
"Do you mean by 'certain circumstances' his intended marriage?"
"No. I may not mean anything. We shall see some day whether I do ornot."
"You speak in a constant succession of riddles. Why not continue yourfrankness, and be strictly open with me?"
Poubalov lit a fresh cigarette, and after a long scrutiny of theceiling, responded:
"That is not my way, Miss Hilman. I am sincerely trying to suggest theclew to your difficult problem."
Clara took her own turn at reflection, and said at last:
"If Ivan felt obliged to disappear for a time, in order to escape hisenemies, he would have managed to let me know."
"It would seem so," admitted Poubalov, rising; "and that brings you toyour last alternative."
"Wait," exclaimed Clara, imperatively; "you bring me to the lastalternative as if that were the end of my difficulties. Suppose itto be true that some Russian exiles, in a mistaken distrust of Mr.Strobel, have abducted him. Can you not suggest how I am to proceed toprove that and to rescue him?"
"I hope to be able to do so, Miss Hilman, in a short time, a few daysat most, and I assure you that I shall henceforth give my undividedattention to searching for Mr. Strobel."
Clara knitted her brows in painful perplexity.
"A woman situated as I am," she said presently, "ought to be stirred bynothing but gratitude; but the one thing I can think to say is, why doyou interest yourself so deeply in the matter?"
"Still distrustful," said Poubalov in his deepest tones. "Miss Hilman,I might resort to sophistry and direct deceit in answering yourquestion. I might point out that the newspapers have placed me, thoughnot as yet by name, in a disagreeable position from which it should bemy earnest desire to extricate myself. I might declare that I was movedby friendship or admiration for Mr. Strobel. But it does not pleaseme to practice arts of trickery with you. Public notoriety I care aslittle for as for the fly that buzzes harmlessly about my head. Inever had friendship or admiration for Mr. Strobel, and I feel neithersentiment now. Alexander Poubalov's one sentiment is loyalty to hisczar."
"You haven't answered the question."
"Because I cannot
answer it without either deceit or the betrayal of mytrust. But I shall nevertheless use every endeavor to find your lover.Will you care to hear from me from time to time?"
"Yes," replied Clara, after a moment's thought; "certainly, yes. I dothank you for speaking to me as you have, and I wish I could trust you.I almost do trust you."
"It would be too ungracious in me," responded Poubalov, "not to wishthat you could trust me, and not to hope that some time in the nearfuture you will find that in this matter you can do so absolutely."
"I suppose it would be vain to ask you what you are going to do?"
"As vain as for me to ask you to tell me all I would like to know aboutMr. Strobel."
"Mr. Poubalov," exclaimed Clara, earnestly, "there can be no reason whyI should withhold anything from you. Your own argument proves that;and, besides, you know more about Ivan's connection with the nihilisticmovement than I ever dreamed of. You perceive the distrust that Icannot conquer, but you believe me, do you not?"
"Implicitly, Miss Hilman."
"Then I assure you that, to my knowledge, Mr. Strobel has not hadanything to do with nihilistic propaganda in this country for threeyears at least. He used to write some on Russian topics, but heabandoned that when he went into business, and--I may say, when hebecame acquainted with me. I think I know all his friends, all hisassociates, and among them all there is but one Russian, a gentlemanlike himself."
"I am very glad to hear this," said Poubalov; "and now I will see whatI can do. I cannot act as I would in Russia, but I can still accomplishsomething, I think. I hope to have the honor of calling upon you soon.I leave it entirely to you to speak of our conversation as you please,but I will go out without disturbing Madame White and your friend. Aurevoir, Miss Hilman."
The distinguished-looking Russian bowed and left the room andimmediately afterward Clara heard the outside door close upon him.
When Litizki, the forlorn-looking tailor, mentioned Poubalov's name,both Mrs. White and Louise Pembroke exclaimed "That's it!" and bothcame forward as if their anxiety were about to be dissipated at onestroke.
"Who is he?" asked Mrs. White, eagerly.
"He is--" began Litizki fiercely; "no! I must not speak. Let me go out,that I may watch him. He shall lead me to Ivan Strobel. Do not tell himthat I have been here, do not mention my name."
"Dear me! it makes me more nervous than ever," said Mrs. White, layinga hand on Litizki's arm to restrain him. "Do you think, Mr. Litizki,that he has done anything to Mr. Strobel?"
"Think!" exclaimed the little tailor who seemed on fire withexcitement, "it is the next thing to knowing! Not a word, remember!"
He tip-toed his way through the hall as if it were night and he werea thief, and cautiously opened the outside door. He touched his handdramatically to his lips as he closed it behind him, leaving Mrs. Whiteterrified and Miss Pembroke bewildered.
Litizki, even in a tumult of rage and desperation, was not a veryimpressive man to look at. It would have seemed that his fury couldbe quelled by a gentle cuff with the open hand, and that his wholebeing could be snuffed out with a vigorous pinch; but if ever man wasterribly in earnest, he was, and a close observer might have noted thedanger signals in the formation of his head and in the hang of hislips. This was a man who might be stirred to such depths that his wholeshallow nature would be in commotion, when discretion would be castoff like flecks of foam from an on-rushing wave; and then let an enemybe wary, for even a slender arm, like that of the little tailor, maystrike a fatal blow!
It seemed a long, long time to Litizki that Poubalov continued hisconversation with Miss Hilman. He dared not linger near the house lestthe spy should see him from a window, or emerge suddenly from thedoorway and so discover that eager eyes were directed to his movements.Litizki slunk into one doorway after another, never staying long inone, lest he be warned away with sufficient outcry to alarm Poubalov,whose ear, he believed, was acutely tuned to the slightest sounds, andwho found untoward significance even in the vagrant breeze.
At last the door opened, and Litizki dodged into an open hall, only toflit out again as soon as he saw Poubalov turn toward Somerset Street.Arrived there, he turned down the hill, and then Litizki ran forwardto the corner around which he peered cautiously. It would not havesurprised him if his face had touched that of Poubalov as he did so,for it would have seemed to him but natural that the spy should thinkthat he was followed and should wait there for the purpose of trappinghis adversary. But, no; Poubalov was progressing calmly down thestreet, and at Howard he again turned to the left.
Litizki ran after, fearful of losing his man in the more crowdedstreet, saw him cross Bulfinch into Bulfinch Place, and finally openthe door of a lodging house with a latch-key.
"So!" thought the tailor, noting the number of the house and turningback, "he chooses his room within a stone's throw of Ivan Strobel's,and then takes a roundabout way to go from one house to the other. Thatis like him. Alexander Poubalov could not be direct in conversationor action even if he were intent upon a good deed--which would beimpossible."
The suggestion was so grotesquely absurd that Litizki laughed andshuddered at once.
"Now," he reflected, "shall I tell the police where to look for IvanStrobel, or shall I consult with his lady? I will go back and see herfirst."