A NEW DEPARTURE.
"What a hard and disagreeable experience," exclaimed Clara, "and so
strange too! You have no occasion to reproach yourself, Mr. Litizki,
with any neglect. You did all that any man could do, I am sure, and
it may not prove to be unfortunate that Poubalov saw that you were
watching him."
"I wish I could think so," responded the tailor, "and it is wonderfully
kind of you to be so patient with my failure. Isn't there something
that I can do now? I can do no work until this matter is settled, and
it is torture to remain idle."
"I know how true that is," sighed Clara; "yes, there is something I
think you can do. If Poubalov had not called last evening, and so
changed all our plans, I should have asked you to follow Billings when
he left the house. I have little faith in him, Mr. Litizki, and it
seems to me that on leaving here last night he must have gone directly
to report to his accomplice, or employer. Are you sure that Poubalov
spoke to nobody?"
"If he did, it was no more than a passing word. He seemed to know no
one."
Clara had to stop and think, for Litizki's story tended to upset her
theories concerning Poubalov's exit and his relations with Billings.
Could it be possible, after all, that Billings had not been employed
by the spy, and that the latter, therefore, had had nothing to do with
Ivan's disappearance? Perhaps Poubalov worked through still another
accomplice, and, suspecting possible treachery, had been at the pains
of secretly following Billings, to learn whether he and the unknown
other were faithful.
This seemed rather a wild supposition, for it would not be like
Poubalov to admit others into his secret operations.
Had he followed Billings? There was no doubt in Clara's mind that this
was what he started to do when he leaped over the hedge and ran to the
side of the road opposite to where Billings was walking. Had Poubalov
lost Billings in the darkness, and, observing Litizki's pursuit,
purposely dodged hither and thither, to discomfit the tailor?
From every question Clara turned more puzzled than before. It must be
that she was on the wrong track, else a reasonable answer could be
found, a reasonable explanation suggested for every act. Perhaps she
was wrong in obstinately connecting Poubalov with the first act in the
tragedy, the disappearance of Ivan; but if so, could his conduct even
then be explained?
"Mr. Litizki," said Clara, at length, "I want to know all that can
possibly be learned about this man Billings. He gave me his address.
Will you undertake to look him up? Unless he is very closely in league
with Poubalov, he will not know who you are, and for that matter it
probably won't be necessary for you to meet him. Eventually you might
have to follow him somewhere, but at the start you might learn a great
deal from his neighbors."
"I'll do it, Miss Hilman; but I promise you now that every step I take
will be dogged by Poubalov."
"Well, never mind. You will be on your guard against him--and yet, I do
not want you to expose yourself to danger," and Clara shuddered as she
thought of the long dagger concealed in Poubalov's cane.
"Bah!" returned Litizki, "I care nothing for the danger. My only fear
is that the villain will overreach me in anything I may attempt. I am
no match for him in skill and cunning, Miss Hilman."
Litizki was woefully dejected. Never did man so long to be possessed of
genius, or even talent, and the tailor was painfully aware of his own
deficiencies.
"You underestimate yourself," said Clara; "you see that I have
confidence in you, else I would not ask you to undertake the
investigation. Will you begin at once?"
"Gladly. You cannot imagine how much courage your good words give me.
If I dared to cherish a hope of any kind, it would be that I should
accomplish something that would justify your good opinion."
"You have already done so, and will do more, have no doubt of it! I am
going downtown myself. Suppose you go to the address Billings gave me,
make such inquiries there as seem advisable, and, if you see nothing to
command your immediate attention, come and tell me what you have found.
I shall be at Mrs. White's. If you come after I go, you will find some
word from me as to where to go next."
She gave him Billings' address, saw him to the door with a cheering
smile, and then turned to Louise, who had been ready to start for
several minutes.
"He had what was to him a dismal story to tell," said Clara, "and I
knew he would rather tell it to me alone."
"I supposed so," returned Louise, "and so I took pains not to interrupt
you. I wish I could think a quarter as well as you do, dear. I don't
feel as if I were the least use."
"Don't be silly, Lou," and Clara embraced her cousin affectionately;
"if I could think as well as you imagine I do, we should be out of the
difficulty in a day. What do you suppose I should do without you?"
Louise was profoundly convinced that Clara would do exactly as she had
been doing all along, but she didn't say so. She would have sympathized
acutely with Litizki's self-abasement had she known how earnestly he
had striven to be of use, and how utterly he had seemed to fail.
They went first to the Park Square Station, Clara, as usual, deeply
absorbed in studying the strange problems that confronted her. The
impression she had received this morning that Poubalov might not have
been associated directly with Ivan's taking off, grew upon her. How
readily he had abandoned the suggestion of elopement! Abandon? he had
ignored it utterly. Not once in her conversation with him had he put
that forth as an explanation worthy of investigation. Could it have
been his subtle purpose to interest her in a line of inquiry that
should lead directly away from that? A shiver passed over her frame,
and Louise inquired anxiously what was the matter?
"New theories keep occurring to me," responded Clara gravely, "and
each one is a shock worse than the one that preceded it. Let me tell
you this one. Suppose that Lizzie White," Clara spoke with difficulty,
every word seemingly dragged forth by a violent effort, "suppose she
were in some way Poubalov's agent; I will not, cannot think that
Ivan went away with her, but might it not be possible that this
remarkable man, who has such mastery over ordinary minds, had made her
an accomplice? Don't you see the cleverness of the plan? If Ivan was
forced to go to New York, Lizzie's departure for that city the same
day is immediately assumed by everybody to mean that they eloped, and
probably all in Boston who think of the matter at all, suppose that
they have been married. Ivan may be a prisoner in New York, and Lizzie
may be under Poubalov's pay, or influence, the latter more likely, to
act, not as his jailer, but as a mask for his presence there.
"Poubalov has some object to attain in keeping him thus guarded, to
torture some political secret from him, perhaps. Now what better
could he do than divert suspicion in my mind from Lizzie to those
whom he calls Nihilists, or even upon himself? He saw at first glance
that I would not tolerate the thought of an elopement as among the
possibilities, so he had no need to disarm me of suspicion in that
direction. Has not everything he has done been done with a view to
keeping me in Boston? What does he care how much poor Litizki dogs his
steps, so long as the victim of his intrigue and villainy is hundreds
of miles away? His one fear in Boston is that Billings, whom he hired
to help in the abduction, may confess something. Therefore he tried to
dog Billings' steps last night, and whether he succeeded I do not know."
Much of this was Greek to Louise, and she said so, adding: "What I do
understand is that you feel now as if it would be necessary to go to
New York."
"I think so. We will see."
"Clara," said Louise, "you will not think that I have suspected Ivan
of faithlessness, I am sure; but it has seemed to me that unless he
returned soon, you would have to go to Lizzie White. You cannot leave
any possible explanation unsought. I could not conjecture that she and
Poubalov might be concerned together as you have, but I did feel as if
you ought to look her up."
"I am glad you think so," responded Clara, "for I was afraid you would
oppose my going."
At the station Clara readily found the Mr. O'Brien to whom Billings had
referred for corroboration of a part of his story.
"Yes'm," he said in reply to her questions, "I know the Billings you
speak of. I saw him here last Monday. Has he been up to anything
crooked?"
"I don't know," said Clara; "it may help to settle that if you will
tell me what were the circumstances of his call here."
O'Brien hesitated.
"I don't want to get tangled up in any police business," he declared;
"Billings was said to be the man who drove the gent that skipped on his
wedding day early this week."
"Yes," said Clara; "I am Miss Hilman, and I was to be married to the
gentleman."
"Sho!" exclaimed O'Brien, sympathetically, "that must have been a
pretty tough blow," and he scratched his head thoughtfully.
"My inquiry," continued Clara, "has nothing to do with the police. They
have abandoned the investigation, I believe. I am trying simply to
satisfy myself, and surely you won't refuse to help."
"No, I won't," replied O'Brien; "but what I can say won't do you no
good. This was how it was. I had to go out to the front of the depot
for something, and just as I got there, Billings drove up a closed
carriage. I thought he nodded as if he wanted me, so I stepped forward.
He pulled up further on than where carriages generally stop, and was
in a place all by himself. I was the only one near. 'Hello,' says I,
'how long you been driving?' 'Mind your own business,' says he, and he
whipped up and drove off. While I was speaking to him a man had got
out of the carriage and gone into the depot. I didn't see him to know
him, didn't pay any attention to him, for he went quickly, and I was
wondering about Billings."
"He says you came forward to get his passenger's baggage."
"'Tain't so. That ain't my line of work."
"Didn't the passenger pay his fare?"
"Not there. He went straight into the depot."
"Why did you ask Billings that question?"
"'Cause I didn't know he'd got into the cab business. He used to be a
porter."
Clara thanked O'Brien, said she might call again if any other questions
occurred to her, and the young ladies went on to Ashburton Place.
Billings had lied, but it might have been Ivan, nevertheless, who went
into the station from the closed carriage.
Mrs. White's greeting was marked by constraint, and she sat in
distressed silence for a moment after Clara and Louise entered. At
length she said:
"People will talk so! I'm sure you've been very good and brave, Miss
Hilman, but what is one to think?"
"I don't know what you mean, Mrs. White."
"Well, don't you see, lots of my friends have called, seeing Lizzie's
name in the papers, and Mr. Strobel's, and they will have it that they
eloped."
"Do you think so?" asked Clara, and in spite of her effort her tone was
cold.
"I don't know what to think," replied the landlady, plaintively.
"You may think what you please," said Clara, her pride mastering her
diplomacy for the moment; "I am going to New York to see your daughter.
I called to say that you might write to her freely so far as any
wish of mine is concerned, and to ask if I could take a look at Mr.
Strobel's room."
"Certainly," answered Mrs. White, uncomfortably. She longed to ask the
imperious young lady a host of questions, but she was restrained by
Clara's hauteur.
The young ladies went up to Ivan's room, and found there his trunk as
he had left it, apparently, and everything in just such condition as
would be expected if a man were about to move and were going to send
for his effects later.
When they went down again they found Litizki talking with Mrs. White.
"So you are going to New York to-day?" he said with some appearance of
disappointment.
"Yes," replied Clara, "but I don't care to have that information go
further. Will you be careful, Mrs. White? Forgive me if I seemed harsh
just now. I shall say nothing unkind to your daughter, and I believe
less than ever that she eloped with Mr. Strobel. What have you found?"
she asked, turning to Litizki.
"Billings doesn't live at that address," he replied, "although he
used to. He hasn't been about there for some time, and no one in the
neighborhood knew he was a cab-driver."
"Very well," said Clara. "There is nothing more to do in that direction
for the present. I shall return from New York on Saturday morning,
probably. I should like to see you then, if possible."
"Yes, Miss Hilman. What train are you to take? I might have something
to report to you at the last minute."
Clara reflected and answered:
"I shall have to go home first. I don't see how I can go earlier than
by the three o'clock New England train. Will you be there?"
Litizki said he would, and after some further conversation with Mrs.
White the young ladies returned to Roxbury. Louise did not prepare
to go to New York, the extra expense this journey involved deterring
her, for Mr. Pembroke was not one who reveled in great wealth. It was
decided to apprise him of Clara's coming by telegraph, so that she
would not be without escort in the city.
Litizki was at the train as he promised to be, and assisted Clara to
her seat in the drawing-room car. He lingered until the starting signal
had been given and then said "good-by" and jumped off; but instead
of remaining in the depot, he ran forward and boarded the ordinary
smoking-car.