"Oh, oh!" Krasavin nodded his head. Pinching his thin dark mustache, he began to speak fluently: "Of course, Timofey Vasilyevich, you can't step on the trail of life's destiny. According to God's law, children grow old, people die. Only all this doesn't concern you and me. We received our appointed task. We are told to catch the people who infringe on law and order. That's all. It's a hard business, it's a clever business. To use a figure of speech, it is a kind of hunt." Maklakov rose from the table, and walked into a corner, from where he beckoned to Yevsey. "Well, what is it?" Yevsey gave him the note. The spy read it, looked into Klimkov's face in astonishment, and read it again. "From whom is this?" he asked in a low voice. Yevsey answered in an embarrassed whisper. "He himself gave it to me. He came out into the street." In the expectation of a rebuke, or even a blow, he bent his neck. But hearing a low laugh he cautiously raised his head, and saw the spy looking at the envelope with a broad smile on his face and a merry gleam in his eyes. "Oh, you strange fellow," said Maklakov. "Now keep quiet about this, you droll creature." "Can I congratulate you on a successful piece of work?" asked Krasavin. "You can. Yes." Maklakov said aloud, walking up to him. "That's good, young man," remarked Krasavin encouragingly. His pupils with green sparks flashing in them turned inward to the bridge of his nose, and his nostrils quivered and expanded. "But the Japs licked us after all, Gavrilo," Maklakov exclaimed merrily, rubbing his hands. "I cannot in the least comprehend your joy in this event," said Krasavin wagging his ears. "Although it was instructive, as many say, still so much Russian blood was shed and the insufficiency of our strength was made so apparent." "And who is to blame?" "The Japs. What do they want? Every country ought to live within itself." They started a discussion, to which Yevsey, rejoiced over Maklakov's attitude, did not pay any attention. He looked into the spy's face, and thought it would be well to live with him instead of Piotr, who scolded at the authorities, and maybe would be arrested as they had arrested the Smokestack. Krasavin left. Maklakov took out the letter, read it once more, and burst into a laugh, looking at Yevsey. "Now don't say a word about it to anybody. Do you understand? He came out himself?" "Yes. He came out, and said, 'Get away from here.'" Yevsey smiled guiltily. "You see another one in his place would have stroked you with a cat's paw." Screwing up his eyes the spy looked through the window, and said slowly, "Yes, you ought to take to peddling wares. I told you so. To-day you are free. I have no more commissions for you. Be off with you. Have a good time. I'll try one of these days to fix you up differently. Good-by." Maklakov held out his hand. Yevsey touched it gratefully, and walked away happy. CHAPTER XV