"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 call simply 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-day again," and Poubalov walked grandly out.
The group exchanged inquiring glances in silence for a moment, and then Litizki exclaimed:
"You see, friends! you see! I was not mistaken in the man, and he is the same here as in Russia—the spy who goes everywhere and does nothing. I don't need to tell you that he wanted no garments. He came 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 I were you—Bah!"
Litizki had begun to imitate the serious tone in which his friend had warned him to let the Strobel case alone, but it seemed superfluous to suggest a warning to Vargovitch after he had himself seen the spy.
"Yes, I understand," said Vargovitch, "and I simply repeat that you'd better keep out of the Strobel case."
"Vargovitch," cried Litizki, "you do not talk like a loyal Russian. Is it you who would stand by and let this spy work his will among us?"