“I knew it all the time!” and he laughed immoderately. “The Scholaskies have given the police a world of trouble, especially Ivan, who, I believe, could deceive his own mother. As Sophie, he was magnificent; but I knew it was Ivan that night I came and found you there. I was sure of it, but I could not arrest him in your presence. I think that boy would have torn my eyes out, and you would never have forgiven me, so I left it for Paul Strigoff, and tried, even then, to prevent it, for that night, at least. You remember the note I sent you, asking you not to go on the ice?”
I bowed, and he went on: “I wished to spare you, if possible, but failed. Ivan was arrested and sent to Siberia, and escaped, no one knows how but himself. As old Alex, he passed a year in St. Petersburg, and no one suspected him until I got a clew, no matter how, and went to Mrs. Browne’s. The moment I saw him I guessed I had my man, and, the more I saw of him, the more certain I became. But I would not arrest him before you. I would wait, I said, and, when I heard he was going to America, I made up my mind to let the poor fellow go, and I kept Paul Strigoff from the scent, and I’ve got him across the frontier and into Paris, where he is safe. You should have seen his face when he first saw me at his sister’s, and a few minutes after. when I told him the truth. I think he would have gone on his knees to me, if I had let him. As it was, he cried. It is dreadful to see a strong man cry, and he is a manly fellow, and has endured so much, that the reaction brought the tears in showers, while his sister kept company with him. He will come and see you to-morrow night. Don’t cry. I have seen tears enough,” he continued, as I began to sob hysterically.
“Let me cry!” I said. “You have been so kind to me, since the first time I saw you, that I cannot help it; but there is one favor more I must ask. What of Nicol?”
He did not speak for a minute; then, taking my hand in his, he said, very low: “Lucy! Lucy!”
I nearly fainted, in my surprise. The name, and the voice in which it was spoken, carried me back to a time when Nicol had said “Lucy” just as this man said it. Incident after incident crowded upon me, until the chain was complete, and I said: “You are Nicol Patoff!”
“Of course. Who should I be?” he answered, laughingly. “I am the so-called Nicol Patoff, once your teacher and always your lover.”
“Oh, what is it? How is it?” I asked, looking to see if I could recognize any likeness to Nicol. I should have known his eyes, but they were half closed, and his beard covered so much of his face that he was nearly as well disguised as Ivan had been as Alex.
“It is a long story, but I will make it as brief as possible,” he said, still holding my hand. “The Patoffs once lived in our house, and they had a son, Nicol, a friend of mine, through whom I imbibed nihilistic sympathies. I attended their meetings. I became convinced that they were right in many respects, but did not join them, thanks to my mother, who heard of my intention, and kept me locked up till my zeal abated somewhat. The Patoffs went to Constantinople, where Nicol died, and I became a little tired of the nihilist tyranny—and it is a terrible tyranny.
“I was suspected of being in a plot of which I never heard. But it made no difference. I was a suspect, and I conceived the idea of going to America until the storm blew over. Why I took Nicol’s name I hardly know, unless it was to escape being followed, if the officials got on my track. I think they were more severe then than they are now. Nicol was still alive, but dying from consumption. I wrote him I was going to take his name, and why, and he replied, ‘All right. Use me any way you like. I shall soon be gone.’
“The next day he died, and I started for America, and finally drifted to Ridgefield, and turned teacher of languages—the only thing for which I was fitted. You were my favorite pupil from the first, and I came to love you as men like me love but once. I could not tell you of my love. You were too young, and that cloud of nihilism was over me. You have seen my mother, but you do not know half how strong a character she was. She had influence, and finally arranged that, if I renounced my connection entirely with the nihilists, I could return in safety. I did so, but carried a thought of you with me always.