The Mission of Poubalov — page 167: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE LITTLE FRONT ROOM. 1638 ing her cousin enough of what had occurred to show that she had endured a strain. Louise sat in her room until late at night, but Clara slept peacefully to all appearances, and seemed to require no watching. In the early morning Litizki’s letter arrived, and a servant took it to Clara’s room. She read it before dressing. While it recalled the shudders with which she had viewed the possibilities of Litizki’s crime, and made her conscientious soul more sensible of what she deemed her responsibility in the matter, it nevertheless awakened hope afresh in her heart. Litizki was so positive in his be- lief that Ivan was confined in Poubalov’s lodging-house, that she was well nigh convinced by his assurances, crazy though his brain undoubtedly was; but there were Pouba- lov’s own utterances on that night when the little tailor had started to open the door to the hall room. They were not direct, but was ever Poubalov direct save when tell- ing a straightforward lie? He had prevented Litizki from opening that door, and were not his ambiguous words sus- ceptible of the interpretation that Ivan was, as Litizki had said, confined there, bound and gagged? She read and reread again the parts of the letter that had reference to this clew, and decided that it would be wrong not to act upon Litizki’s suggestions. She was re- solved that nothing she would do should be calculated to precipitate another tragedy, but rescue her lover sne must, and she set herself to thinking how it could be done. When she was dressed, she went to her cousin’s room, and uise was surprised to be awakened by Clara, who looked none the worse for her extraordinary adventures. “T’m not going to ask you how you are this morning,”’ said Louise, with mock resentment; ‘‘I couldn’t look as ‘well as you do if I employed a trained nurse the year Found. hd _ **Perhaps I look better than I feel, dear,’’ responded Clara; ‘“‘but I confess that, in spite of everything, I do feel hopeful, Here is a sad letter from poor Litizi3;; Bead.