The Mission of Poubalov

by Frederick R. Burton

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  HIDE AND SEEK.

  Clara's face was deathly pale, and in her heart anger burned as hotlyat Poubalov's ceremonious insolence as it ached with this fresh blow toher hopes. Paul, blue with despair, feared for her, but she had not yetmet the emergency that was too great for her to contend with, howeverunsuccessful she might be.

  "We must waste no time here!" she cried stepping quickly forward to thecoupe. "Return to that house, Paul, and search it; do what you thinkis best, according to developments. I am going to pursue Poubalov as Isaid I would. If I do not hear from you before the day is over, Paul, Ishall go to that house myself. If you have to go downtown, leave wordat Mrs. White's. Keep that carriage in view, Michael, but don't try toovertake it. Good-by, Paul!"

  Her voice quivered with the desperation that had driven the tears tothe brink of her eyes, and she hastily entered the coupe and pulleddown the window curtains. Thus shut out from view, she gave way freelyto her overstrained emotions, her soul seeming to be borne along ona rushing torrent of grief, and she felt that appalling desire, thanwhich there is no more shocking experience of the heart, to throwherself into the arms of the lost loved one and find comfort there.

  It was a great day for sturdy Mike. The regret that he hadn't had timejust now to "lambast" his friend Patterson, was sweetly assuaged by thefact that he was still pursuing the loafer who did the trick to hiswheel, and the hope that another opportunity would soon offer for afine fight.

  The chase exhilarated him, and the thought that he was called upon tochampion a beautiful woman, made his fists ache to do valiant serviceupon somebody's head, Patterson's preferred, and he thumped his kneesgently with his knuckles by way of practice, and kept his horse at abrisk trot a few rods behind Poubalov's carriage.

  He was quite confident that he could "do" both driver and passenger ifsuch a thing were necessary, and he longed heartily for an occasion todemand a trial of his prowess.

  After having traversed a considerable distance, he pulled up, got downand gently opened the door.

  "Whist, miss," he said, "they've stopped entirely."

  "Where are we, and where are they?" asked Clara, now her composed selfagain.

  "In Scollay Square," answered Mike, "and they're just foreninst theCrawford House. The gentleman's talkin' to Patterson. Now he's lookin'at me, bad luck to him!"

  "I don't wish to come up to him," said Clara; "if he comes this way Ishall be glad. You must have no fear if we talk angrily together."

  "I'd like to----" began Mike, significantly.

  "Yes, I know you would," she interrupted, "but we must have no troubleunless I give the word. I might do so if I thought a policeman wouldarrest him, and not you."

  "As to that, miss," said Mike, ruefully, "any copper's more likely topull in the poor cab-driver instead of the fine gentleman. My brother'son the force, an' if we was only on his beat, now!"

  "Tell me what they are doing, please."

  "The gentleman is going into the hotel. Patterson is starting away.Shall I follow him?"

  Clara reflected just an instant.

  "No," she answered. "Stay here. I'm not going to pursue another emptycarriage."

  "Huh!" chuckled Mike, "you're a keen one, sure, for that's just whathe's wantin' you to do. Patterson has turned down Hanover Street."

  "We'll wait until he comes back," said Clara, "if we have to spend therest of the day here; but you watch the hotel--Stay! there's a sideentrance to the Crawford House, isn't there? Can you place the coupewhere you can see both doors?"

  "Yes, but I don't know how long the police will let me stay there."

  "Try it, please. If they make you move on, drive around the square andcome back."

  Mike accordingly drove up to the curb of Tremont Row, where he couldlook down Brattle Street. No policeman had disturbed him beforePatterson turned from Cornhill into the square. He had driven arounda few blocks, evidently for the purpose of testing the design of hispursuers. Clara wondered why Poubalov should permit such a chase tocontinue. It would have seemed more like him to come to her with someof his characteristic sophistry, and either appear to yield, or adoptan entirely different course. It must be that he had some plan inview to the execution of which Patterson and his closed carriage wereessential.

  Patterson drove to the front entrance of the hotel and waited, castingugly glances across the square at Mike, who grinned complacently andshook his fist.

  After a moment Poubalov came out, entered the carriage, and Pattersonpromptly drove away. It was plain as day that he had received hisinstructions while Poubalov stood on the side-walk at the time oftheir arrival there. He was to see whether Clara would persist in herpursuit, and if so he was to--and that remained to be seen.

  Mike speedily resumed the reins, and again the chase was in progress.Patterson went down Hanover Street, and, without any apparent effortto distance his pursuer, kept on until he came to Fleet Street, whichleads to one of the East Boston ferries.

  He turned in there, and Mike lost a little by reason of a temporary jamof vehicles. As soon as he was out of it, he too went through FleetStreet, and saw, to his satisfaction, that Patterson was still but ashort distance ahead.

  With painful anxiety, however, he saw that Patterson was making for theferry, before which a rapidly increasing line of vehicles stood waitingfor a chance to cross. Mike whipped up energetically, and managed tobeat several drays and express wagons on the way in, and when at lasthe had to pull up and take his place in line, Patterson's was thecarriage directly in front of him.

  "Smart, ain't ye, ye loafer!" said Mike, disdainfully.

  Patterson did not notice this remark, or any other of the many withwhich Mike assailed him while they waited for an incoming boat todischarge its cargo. When at length the gates were opened for thewaiting vehicles, Mike was on the alert to take advantage of anyopening that might occur to enable him to forge ahead, but noneoccurred.

  Policemen and ferry officials kept the teams to their places, and ifMike had attempted a trick, he would have been compelled to go back,and thus lose more than he could have gained.

  One by one the carriages and wagons went on board, and just afterPatterson had passed the barrier the gates were closed.

  "Hold on there!" howled Mike, beside himself with disappointment andrage, "don't yees see I've got to get aboard?"

  The gateman laughed and told him to make himself easy; and Patterson,from his place at the very stern of the ferryboat, stood up in his seatand beckoned to Mike ironically.

  The unhappy chap fumed in vain and got down to tell Clara about it.

  "We're shook, miss, shook entirely," he said despondently.

  When Clara understood the unfortunate meaning of his words, and sawthat Poubalov had won in another skirmish, she herself was in aquandary.

  "There are two ferries, aren't there?" she asked. "Aren't they nearenough together on this side to make it possible to watch both fortheir return? for, of course, they haven't gone to East Boston for anyother purpose than to come back here again unperceived."

  "That might possibly be done, miss," said Mike, after a look at the jamof vehicles behind him, "but we're in for a trip across anyways, for Icouldn't turn 'round now. An' then, d'ye see, there's more ways to getback from East Boston. They might go over to Chelsea, an' come back bythat ferry, or take a run around by road and bridge, so you'd best give'em up as lost, miss, an' it's sorry I am to tell you so."

  "Well," said Clara sighing, "if we have to cross, we can make inquirieson the other side, and possibly come up with them again. We'll try it."

  Inquiries on the East Boston side were vain when they landed there tenminutes later.

  No one to whom they spoke could remember whether a carriage such asthey described had been across or not.

  One man, anxious to parade information that he did not possess, thoughtvaguely that the carriage might have gone thus and so, and Clarainstructed Mike to drive that way a short distance, and then to returnto Bost
on by the other ferry.

  This was done, and all trace of Poubalov having been lost, and butone more hope remaining to her--Paul's investigation of the house inRoxbury--she directed Mike to drive to Ashburton Place.

  Paul had arrived at Mrs. White's a few minutes ahead of her.

  "I waited for you," he said in a disheartened voice, "because I'mcompletely at a loss what to do next, not because I have anything ofimportance to say."

  "Everything is of importance, Paul," replied Clara, finding herself nowcalled upon to inspire her allies with courage as well as give themideas. "You went to that quaint-looking house, of course?"

  "Yes, it's an abandoned tavern--that is, it was formerly run as ahotel, but the enterprise was a failure, and it is now closed. Ilearned that much from a man who was passing while I stood under thebalcony, waiting for somebody to answer my ring. He remarked thathe didn't believe I'd find anybody at home, as the house had beenpractically deserted for some time."

  "But we saw Poubalov come out of there this morning," urged Clara.

  "I said as much to my informant, but he answered that it was probablysomebody who had been looking it over with a view to purchase. Ofcourse we know better, but it goes to show that neither Patterson noranybody else lives there."

  "Except Ivan, if he still lives," said Clara gravely.

  "Don't think I forgot that possibility," returned Paul, earnestly. "Iquietly tried the door after my informant had passed on; he didn't knowthe name of the owner, by the way. Of course the door was locked. Iwent around to the side and back, for there is a driveway there leadingto stables that are apparently as little used as the tavern itself.Every door and every window was closed. I knocked and shouted, and thenneighbors put their heads out of windows and advised me that I wasmaking a noise to no purpose. If it had been night I would have burstopen a door or window, and have gone through the house from roof tocellar, but that plan is rather impracticable by daylight."

  "I wonder," said Clara, "if the law would allow a search of thatbuilding. I mean something to be done officially. I've heard ofsearch-warrants."

  "It's barely possible, and you might try it; but my idea, such as itis, would be to go there quietly to-night ourselves, and force anentrance."

  "And in either case Poubalov might return during the day, and effect achange in the situation that would make the search useless."

  "Yes," said Paul, gloomily, "I had thought of that."

  "The house must be watched this afternoon," said Clara, decidedly, "butit is my very distinct impression that Poubalov will go to his lodgingbefore he returns to Roxbury. It seems to me he must have been on hisway there when he was compelled to make a long detour to elude us. Andthat means that I think his lodging should be watched as carefully asthe abandoned tavern. Will you pass the afternoon in your room, Paul?"

  "Certainly, unless there is a better way of watching there. You mustremember that Poubalov has discovered my peephole."

  "Then," said Clara, "we will borrow the little front hall room occupiedby the young lady. Let us go down at once."

  On this occasion Mrs. White had left them to themselves, much toClara's relief, for she would not have cared again to discuss herplans in the good lady's presence. It was not that she distrusted Mrs.White's intentions, but she had proven before that she was exceedinglypliable in Poubalov's hands.

  As they were ready to go, Clara sought Mrs. White to say good-by.

  "I'm sorry you are going so soon," said the landlady; "I thought youand Mr. Palovna would want a long talk, and so I busied myself in thekitchen, for fear I couldn't help interrupting to tell you my own goodnews. I expect Lizzie home to-night."

  "Do you, indeed?" exclaimed Clara; "I am really very glad for you."

  "It seems better, doesn't it?" continued Mrs. White, anxious to talkto somebody, and eager for sympathy; "she hasn't told me a word in herletters about why she went away, but, of course, I suspected; and Ithink from the way she writes in the letter I got this morning that shefeels better, poor thing! At any rate, she's coming, and I feel veryhappy, and I should be perfectly content if only you could be happy,too, Miss Hilman."

  "That seems almost an impossible boon for me now," replied Clara,gently; "I shall come to see you and your daughter if she would like tohave me."

  "I am sure she would, Miss Hilman. Must you hurry?"

  Every minute seemed so precious to Clara that she almost begrudged thebrief interval spent in this exchange of courtesies. On the way toBulfinch Place she told Paul again that she should manage to watch thetavern during the afternoon, "but," she added, "you are most likely tomeet important developments, and you will know where to find me, eithernear the tavern, or at my uncle's. I shall try to watch the tavern insuch a way as not to frighten off Poubalov should he wish to go in, butonce he should enter, I shall follow him, you may be sure."

  At the lodging-house Clara made herself known to the occupant of thefront hall room, who was at the time home for luncheon.

  Clara talked with her apart at length, telling her in a general way ofher troubles, but not indicating her plans in detail.

  The young woman had not come in contact with Poubalov at all, it seemed.

  She hardly knew that he was a lodger in the house, and the upshot ofit was that her sympathies were aroused, and Paul was installed in herroom, where he could keep watch upon the roadway through the slats ofthe closed blinds. So once more Clara bade him good-by, and set forthon her own task.

  Paul did not venture to keep himself awake by smoking in the younglady's room, and he therefore had a dreadfully hard time of it, forthe entire afternoon passed without an event of any kind to break themonotony of his watch.

  The young lady returned at six o'clock, and looked in for a momentbefore going to dinner. After that she sat gossiping with the landlady.

  The sun set and twilight gathered, and Paul began to fear thatPoubalov had changed his quarters without giving notice; but justbefore it was too dark to distinguish faces in the street below, acarriage stopped before the door and Paul saw that Patterson sat on thebox.