The Spy

"Yes," said Piotr unconcernedly. He wiped his forehead and examined the cards. "Deal one thousand two hundred and fourteen – I have the ace, seven of hearts, queen of clubs." He made a note in his book, and without raising his head continued to speak to himself.

When he calculated the cards, he mumbled indistinctly with a preoccupied air; but when he instructed Yevsey, he spoke drily, clearly, and rapidly. "Revolutionists are enemies of the Czar and God – ten of diamonds – three – Jack of spades – they are bought by the Germans in order to bring ruin upon Russia. We Russians have begun to do everything ourselves, and for the Germans – king, five and nine – the devil! The sixteenth coincidence!"

Piotr Petrovich suddenly grew jolly, his eyes gleamed, and his face assumed a sleek, satisfied expression.

"What was I saying?" he asked Yevsey looking up at him.

"The Germans."

"Oh, yes! The Germans are greedy, they are enemies of the Russian people, they want to conquer us. They want us to buy all our goods from them, and give them our bread. The Germans have no bread – queen of diamonds – all right – two of hearts, ten of clubs, ten – " Screwing up his eyes he looked up at the ceiling, sighed, and shuffled the cards. "In general, all foreigners envious of the wealth and power of Russia – one thousand two hundred and fifteenth deal – want to create a revolt in our country, dethrone the Czar, and – three aces – hmm! – and place their own officials everywhere, their own rulers over us in order to rob us and ruin us. You don't want this to happen, do you?"

"I don't," said Yevsey, who understood nothing, and followed the quick movements of the card-player's fingers with a dull look.

"Of course, nobody wants it," remarked Piotr pensively. He laid out the cards again, and stroked his cheeks meditatively. "You are a Russian, and you cannot want that – that – this should happen – therefore you ought to fight the revolutionaries, agents of the foreigners, and defend the liberty of Russia, the power and life of the Czar. That's all. Did you understand?"

"I did."

"Afterward you will see the way it must be done. The only thing I'll tell you beforehand is, don't dwaddle. Carry out all orders precisely. We fellows ought to have eyes in back as well as in front. If you haven't, you'll get it good and hard on all sides – ace of spades, seven of diamonds, ten of clubs."

There was a knock at the door.

"Open the door."

A red, curly-haired man entered carrying a samovar on a tray.

"Ivan, this is my cousin. He will live here with me. Get the next room ready for him."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Chizhov was here."

"Drunk?"

"A little. He wanted to come in."

"Make tea, Yevsey," said the spy after the servant had left the room. "Get yourself a glass and drink some tea. What salary did you get in the police department?"

"Nine rubles a month."

"You have no money now?"

"No."

"You've got to have some, and you must order a suit for yourself. One suit won't do. You must notice everybody, but nobody must notice you."

He again mumbled calculations of the cards. Yevsey, while noiselessly serving the tea, tried to straighten out the strange impressions of the day. But he was not successful. He felt sick. He was chilled through and through, and his hands shook. He wanted to stretch himself out in a corner, close his eyes, and lie motionless for a long time. Words and phrases repeated themselves disconnectedly in his head.

"What are you guilty of, then?" Filip Filippovich asked in a thin voice.

"They killed Dorimedont Lukin," the spy announced drily; then exclaimed joyfully, "The sixteenth coincidence!"

"You will choke yourself," said Rayisa in an even voice.

There was a powerful rap on the door. Piotr raised his head.

"Is it you, Sasha?"

"Well, open the door," an angry voice answered.

When Yevsey opened the door, a tall man loomed before him, swaying on long legs. The ends of his black mustache reached to the bottom of his chin. The hairs of it must have been stiff and hard as a horse's, for each one stuck out by itself. When he removed his hat, he displayed a bald skull. He flung the hat on the bed, and rubbed his face vigorously with both hands.

"Why are you throwing your wet hat on my bed?" observed Piotr.

"The devil take your bed!" said the guest through his nose.

"Yevsey, hang up the overcoat."

The visitor seated himself, stretching out his long legs and lighting a cigarette.

"What's that – Yevsey?"

"My cousin. Will you have some tea?"

"We're all akin in our natural skin. Have you whiskey?"

Piotr told Klimkov to order a bottle of whiskey and some refreshments. Yevsey obeyed, then seated himself at the table, putting the samovar between his face and the visitor's, so as not to be seen by him.

"How's business, card sharper?" he asked, nodding his head at the cards.

Piotr suddenly half raised himself from the chair, and said animatedly:

"I have found out the secret! I have found out the secret!"

"You have found it out?" queried the visitor. "Fool!" he exclaimed, drawling the word and shaking his head.

Piotr seized the note-book and rapping his fingers on it continued in a hot whisper:

"Wait, Sasha. I have had the sixteenth coincidence already. You get the significance of that? And I made only one one thousand two hundred and fourteen deals. Now the cards keep repeating themselves oftener and oftener. I must make two thousand seven hundred and four deals. You understand? Fifty-two times fifty-two. Then make all the deals over again thirteen times, according to the number of cards in each color. Thirty-five thousand, one hundred and fifty-two times. And repeat these deals four times according to the number of colors. One hundred and forty thousand six hundred and eight times."

"Fool!" the visitor again drawled through his nose, shaking his head and curling his lips in a sneer.

"Why, Sasha, why? Explain!" Piotr cried softly. "Why, then I'll know all the deals possible in a game. Think of it! I'll look at my cards – " he held the book nearer to his face and began to read quickly – "ace of spades, seven of diamonds, ten of clubs. So of the other players one has king of hearts, five and ten of diamonds, and the other, ace, seven of hearts, queen of clubs, and the third has queen of diamonds, two of hearts, and ten of clubs."

His hands trembled, sweat glistened on his temples, his face became young, good, and kind.

Klimkov peering from behind the samovar saw on Sasha's face large dim eyes with red veins on the whites, a coarse big nose, which seemed to be swollen, and a net of pimples spread on the yellow skin of his forehead from temple to temple like the band worn by the dead. He radiated an acrid, unpleasant odor. The man recalled something painful to Yevsey.

Piotr pressed the book to his breast, and waved his hand in the air.

"I shall then be able to play without a single miss," he whispered ecstatically. "Hundreds of thousands, millions, will be lost to me, and there won't be any sharp practice, any jugglery in it, a matter of my knowledge – that's all. Everything strictly within the law."