The Mission of Poubalov

by Frederick R. Burton

  CHAPTER XI.

  STRANGE EXIT OF POUBALOV.

  "I had already shown it to Mr. Bowker," replied Mrs. White, anxiously;"I thought it might convince him that Lizzie had nothing to do with thedisappearance of Mr. Strobel."

  "It didn't convince him," said Clara, bitterly; "but no matter. May Icopy Miss Lizzie's address?"

  "Of course. Are you going to write to her?"

  "Perhaps so. Have you written yet?"

  "I haven't had time, but I shall do so this afternoon. Is theresomething you would like to have me say?"

  Clara was intent with her thoughts.

  "Mrs. White," she said presently, "if you write to-night, could youomit any reference to Mr. Strobel?"

  "Land sakes!" exclaimed the good lady; "whatever should I write aboutthen? With Lizzie's name in the papers, and everybody believing thatshe ran away with Mr. Strobel, what should I say?"

  "I suppose it would be hard to ignore it altogether, but couldn't youomit saying anything of the rumors that have connected their names?"

  "Why, I'll try to, Miss Hilman, but Lizzie will have to know about itsome time."

  "Certainly, when you write to-morrow you can say what you please aboutit. Just for to-day I wish you wouldn't. I'll come down early to-morrowmorning, and perhaps I will be able to tell you a great deal more thanyou know now, more than any of us know."

  "I do hope you will hear something definite," said Mrs. White, "foryou can't tell how much easier I am to know that Lizzie's settledsomewhere, that she's alive and in a home. If you only knew that Mr.Strobel was sick in a hospital, now, it would be better, wouldn't it?"

  "Nothing is so dreadful as uncertainty," replied Clara; "you'll be verycareful what you write then?"

  "As for that, Miss Hilman, I don't see that I need to write at allto-day. It's only a day more, and if you say it won't make anydifference to you what I say to-morrow, I'll put it off till then ifyou like."

  "I should be so much obliged! Have you seen Mr. Litizki to-day?"

  "No, nor the dark gentleman, either. Mr. Litizki's shop is not far fromhere, if you'd like to see him."

  Clara inquired the way, and soon after the young ladies set out for thelittle tailor's place of business.

  Litizki was his own master in business, and he employed two or morefellow-countrymen as assistants, the number varying with the demandsof his enterprise. On this day there were several men in the shop, butthey were not there as workmen. Most of them had come to talk withLitizki about the Strobel case. He was not very communicative, butthat was his way. Nevertheless he had some things to say, and for thisreason his acquaintances found that he talked much more freely thanusual.

  "I tell you," he insisted, his dull eyes glowing with hate, "AlexanderPoubalov is in Boston. I am not one to be mistaken in that man, and hispresence here means trouble for any, perhaps all of us."

  "What could he wish to do against poor Russians, Nicholas Litizki, whohave no intention of revisiting their native country?" asked one of thegroup.

  "Better ask what has he done?" retorted the tailor. "Here is IvanStrobel, more prosperous than we, with more powerful friends, and whathas Poubalov done to him? Would that I knew!"

  "As soon as Poubalov appears," remarked another, "Litizki will lay thevery next crime that occurs to his hands."

  "Where Poubalov goes," said Litizki, "you will ever find treachery andoppression. It is not for you, Peter, to make light of Poubalov. Youhave felt his hand as well as I."

  "Yes," admitted Peter, "but in the Strobel matter you do not forgetwhat the police have discovered, do you? Well might you suspect thedirty spy, were it not that one does not go far, it seems, to find thewoman in the case."

  "Bah!" sneered Litizki; "do you forget that there are two women in thecase? And have you seen either of them? No. Well, I have seen both. Ihave no unkind word for Lizzie White, with whom they say he went away;but I tell you, friends, Ivan Strobel could not have preferred her toMiss Hilman." He pronounced the name softly as if it aroused a feelingakin to reverence. "You should see her," he continued; "she is a veryangel of beauty and goodness. Happy would be the man whose privilege itwas simply to worship her; and as for him whom she would permit to loveher--Bah! talk to me not about the woman in the case until you haveseen Miss Hilman."

  His friends listened gravely. They found nothing ludicrous in Litizki'soccasionally extravagant language. When he was stirred to somethinglike eloquence, it was almost always by a memory of the wrongs he hadsuffered, and then no language could have been too imaginative toexpress the bitterness with which his sympathetic hearers listened.

  "Where did you see her, Litizki?" asked one of them.

  "Never mind now," he replied; "I have seen her since Strobeldisappeared. She is bearing up bravely, and scorns the suggestion thathe eloped with Miss White. She is devoting her life to finding him,and it is my opinion that every poor Russian in Boston ought to do thesame."

  He looked furtively from face to face in the group, to observe theeffect of his words. Most of them stared at the floor.

  "Strobel was a good man," said one, after a long pause; "but what couldany of us do?"

  "Do?" repeated the tailor, and his indignant reply died on his lipsas he remembered with sudden distinctness the fiasco of the previousnight. "We could at least watch Poubalov, and I, for one, intend todo so. I cannot sit, and cut, and sew, and think, while he is in thiscountry and my friend is in his power."

  "Nicholas Litizki," said one who had not spoken previously, "if I werein your place, I would let the Strobel case take care of itself."

  The tailor glanced at the speaker.

  "You speak as if we were still in Russia," he said, "and you hadauthority to command me."

  "You will do as you please," returned the other; "but if I were in yourplace, I should keep quiet."

  "Listen then, all of you," exclaimed Litizki, with energy; "I shall notkeep quiet. I shall pursue Poubalov, I shall do everything possibleto effect the rescue of Ivan Strobel, and if I have to sacrifice mybusiness and everything, and every chance I have in the world, I shalldo it."

  The door of the little workshop opened, and Alexander Poubalov steppedin.

  "Good-day, to you, Nicholas Litizki, and friends," he said with easyfamiliarity. "When one is in a foreign land, and has need of something,he will naturally apply to a fellow-countryman, will he not?"

  He looked around at the group, as if expecting a general assent. Themen looked darkly at him and were silent. If all had not seen him inRussia, they knew who he was; and if there had been any doubt, theywould have but needed to glance at Litizki to see that he was facinghis arch-enemy.

  The tailor rose from his bench, and his sallow face was deathly pale.

  "Alexander Poubalov," he said determinedly, "this is no place for you.You hear no words of welcome----"

  "Gently, Litizki, my friend, gently," interposed the spy; "I callsimply on business. I want clothes. Will you make them for me?"

  "Not for all the wealth of the czar!" returned the tailor, fiercely.

  "Then we will waste no time discussing material and prices. Good-dayagain," and Poubalov walked grandly out.

  The group exchanged inquiring glances in silence for a moment, and thenLitizki exclaimed:

  "You see, friends! you see! I was not mistaken in the man, and heis the same here as in Russia--the spy who goes everywhere and doesnothing. I don't need to tell you that he wanted no garments. Hecame here for a purpose, and he accomplished it. It is now my turn,Vargovitch, to utter a warning. Poubalov's eyes are upon you, and if Iwere you--Bah!"

  Litizki had begun to imitate the serious tone in which his friend hadwarned him to let the Strobel case alone, but it seemed superfluous tosuggest a warning to Vargovitch after he had himself seen the spy.

  "Yes, I understand," said Vargovitch, "and I simply repeat that you'dbetter keep out of the Strobel case."

  "Vargovitch," cried Litizki, "you do not talk like a loyal Russian. Isit you who would stand by and
let this spy work his will among us?"

  "I have no more love for Poubalov and his work than you have, Litizki,"replied Vargovitch. "May there not be reasons for my counsel--reasonsthat you do not understand?"

  Litizki peered at the speaker silently and resumed his work. Vargovitchleft the room and shortly afterward the other visitors dispersed.

  "I would do what Vargovitch says, Nicholas Litizki," remarked one ofthe tailor's assistants.

  Litizki worked away as if he had not heard, and his thoughts were notpleasant or hopeful. It had seemed to him as if every compatriot ofhis in the city would need but the suggestion to unite in an effort tooutwit Poubalov and rescue Strobel. Litizki could not understand it,and he was disappointed. It was while he was meditating thus that Claraand Louise called.

  The little tailor almost blushed as he left his bench and went to meetthem.

  "I should almost say," he began hurriedly, after he had awkwardlyacknowledged their greetings, "that you ought not to come here. Areyou aware that Poubalov may be, probably is, watching your every step?That man has the eyes of a thousand, and if it were possible to throwhim off the track it would be best to do so. But it is impossible. Ifyou did not come here, he would find out that you know me, and he wouldinfer the rest."

  "You seem troubled, Mr. Litizki," said Clara, kindly; "have you, too,given up Mr. Strobel?"

  "I? Never! It is because I do not give him up that--well, yes, I amtroubled. Why disguise the fact that Poubalov is a powerful enemy? I amnot a coward, Miss Hilman; my life is not worth enough to me to makeme care for it, but I fear that man's power will be too great for thefriends of Ivan Strobel."

  "You have seen him, then?"

  "Yes, I--" Litizki averted his eyes and continued: "He has been here,to-day, not more than half an hour ago."

  "I hope, Mr. Litizki," said Clara, "that you will not put yourself inhis power. If you feel that it is dangerous to help in the search forMr. Strobel, you must not do it."

  "Dangerous? It is too late to think of that, if I cared about it. Thatman has possession of Mr. Strobel, and will keep him until he hasaccomplished some purpose. Strobel will not yield." Litizki paused andlooked gloomily away. "You see, it is a question of how to circumventPoubalov," he added.

  "I am afraid, Mr. Litizki, that your loyalty to your friend will bringmisfortune upon you. I should be very sorry for that."

  "Ah, Miss Hilman," muttered the tailor, and a sad wistfulness lingeredbriefly in his eyes, "you are worthy of my benefactor. I could not saymore."

  Clara was deeply touched, and her voice trembled as she said:

  "Thank you, Mr. Litizki. I hope to be worthy of your kind thoughts. Imay learn something to-night that will put another light on the case.Is it too much to ask you to call at my uncle's house some time duringthe evening?"

  "Not if you lived in Siberia, Miss Hilman. Where is it, and when shallI come?"

  Clara gave him the address and left him, begging him to come early.When they were on the way home, Louise said:

  "I am more and more amazed at your method every day, dear. Have I notbeen good to listen, and ask no questions and volunteer no advice?"

  "Too good, dear. I should often want advice, and ask it, but that Ifear hurting you by not following it. I must go my own way."

  "Of course you must, but I was just leading up to this question: Whatin the world do you want of Mr. Litizki this evening?"

  "I hardly know myself, dear; but if that 'second driver' calls, I hopeto make Mr. Litizki useful. Will that do?"

  It had to, for Clara fell to thinking, and her cousin saw thatquestions would be irritating.

  Mr. Pembroke sent word from his office that he should not come todinner, and he had not arrived when the servant announced a caller, andhanded a card to Clara. It was Poubalov.

  "I suppose," said Clara, showing not the least surprise, "thatI'd better see him alone. Will you wait here" (they were in thedining-room), "in case I should want you?"

  Poubalov smiled and his face looked almost attractive as he rose andbowed when Clara entered the drawing-room. At that instant Clara feltthat but for his self-confessed methods of deceit, she could havetrusted him, and this in spite of the black pictures that Litizki andPaul Palovna had drawn of him.

  "I am delighted, Miss Hilman," he said, "to observe that you endureyour sorrow and your remarkable work so well."

  "I am told that nothing escapes you," replied Clara, "and so I supposeyou know all about my search for the driver of Mr. Strobel's secondcarriage."

  "Miss Clara," said a servant at the hall door, "a man who says his nameis Billings wishes to see you."

  "Show him into the library, please," answered Clara, then toPoubalov--"Will you pardon me? This is the man of whom I was speaking,and I must see him."

  "Pray do," responded the Russian; "my message can well wait until hehas gone."

  Clara at once crossed the hall into the library. The minute she was outof the room Poubalov went to the door and cautiously opened it a littleway. He closed it quickly and reflected. Clara had left the door fromthe hall to the library wide open, and the street door would be easilyin view to anybody in the library.

  Poubalov went from one to another of the several windows and lookedout. From one at the side of the room he saw a few yards of turfbounded by a low hedge, and beyond that the park-like groundssurrounding a large dwelling. This window was partially open.

  The spy looked once more toward the hall door. He had given his hat andstick to the servant, and they had been placed somewhere in the hall.He shrugged his shoulders, pushed the window further up and stepped out.

  A moment later, Louise, who was idly gazing out of the dining-roomwindow, was considerably startled to see a man, whom in the gatheringdusk she could not recognize, leap over the hedge into the adjoininggrounds, and disappear behind the shrubbery.