"I have no more love for Poubalov and his work than you have, Litizki," replied Vargovitch. "May there not be reasons for my counsel—reasons that you do not understand?"
Litizki peered at the speaker silently and resumed his work. Vargovitch left the room and shortly afterward the other visitors dispersed.
"I would do what Vargovitch says, Nicholas Litizki," remarked one of the tailor's assistants.
Litizki worked away as if he had not heard, and his thoughts were not pleasant or hopeful. It had seemed to him as if every compatriot of his in the city would need but the suggestion to unite in an effort to outwit Poubalov and rescue Strobel. Litizki could not understand it, and he was disappointed. It was while he was meditating thus that Clara and Louise called.
The little tailor almost blushed as he left his bench and went to meet them.
"I should almost say," he began hurriedly, after he had awkwardly acknowledged their greetings, "that you ought not to come here. Are you 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 throw him off the track it would be best to do so. But it is impossible. If you did not come here, he would find out that you know me, and he would infer 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 am troubled. Why disguise the fact that Poubalov is a powerful enemy? I am not a coward, Miss Hilman; my life is not worth enough to me to make me care for it, but I fear that man's power will be too great for the friends 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."