Part 4 (1/2)
”Somebody has placed fifty thousand roubles to my account at the Azof-Don Bank.”
In turn the rascal smiled, and said:
”You need not seek its source. It is out of the Government funds, and is yours. Keep a still tongue, and there may be other payments.” Then, turning to his table, he showed me quant.i.ties of correspondence which had been left unattended in my absence, and urged me to get to work, adding: ”I have to be at the Baroness Tchelkounoff's this afternoon, and there is a seance here to-morrow--five neophytes to be initiated.”
So five more silly, neurotic and, of course, wealthy women were to be initiated into the mysteries of the mock saint's religion. Grichka had no use for those whose pockets were not well lined, for he was acc.u.mulating vast sums from those weak, fascinated females who believed in his divinity as healer and spiritual guide.
Presently I seated myself at the table and recommenced my secretarial duties, while he went forth. In many letters were drafts for subscriptions for Rasputin's convent in far-off Pokrovsky in Siberia, a place which no one had ever visited, yet in support of which he had obtained hundreds of thousands of roubles. I might here state that later on, when I visited Pokrovsky, I found the wonderful convent, of which he told me such pious stories, consisted of a plain house cheaply furnished in which lived his peasant wife and children, together with twelve of his chosen sister-disciples, foolish women who had made over their money to him and devoted their lives to piety as set forth in his new ”religion.”
A fortnight pa.s.sed. Of Kouropatkine we saw little. He had, at last, a.s.sisted by the traitor Stossel and at Germany's instigation, succeeded in forcing war with j.a.pan, and the streets of the capital were filled with urging, enthusiastic crowds bent upon pulling the Mikado from his throne.
Kouropatkine had, according to what Rasputin told me, a.s.sured the Emperor that the victory would be an easy one, and that the j.a.panese would fly at first sight of our troops. The General had quite recently returned from the Far East, and had presented a personal report to the Tsar describing j.a.pan's war preparations. He had declared that if Russia meant victory she must strike at once. Hence war was declared; you know with what disastrous results to both the Army and Navy of Russia.
It was, however, on the day before the declaration of war that Rasputin's real triumph came. The Empress, who had been searching Russia high and low for the pious Father beside whom she had knelt in Kazan, had at last discovered him, and he received a command to an audience at the Palace of Tsarskoe-Selo.
The monk, his eyes s.h.i.+ning with glee, showed me the letter from Count Fredericks, Minister of the Court, and said: ”You must accompany me, Feodor.”
At noon on the day appointed we therefore left Petrograd together. The monk wore, in pretended humility, his oldest and most rusty robe--though beneath it, be it said, his under garments were of silk of the finest procurable in the capital--while suspended by a thin bra.s.s chain around his neck was a cheap enamelled cross. He was unkempt, unwashed, his face sallow and drawn, yet those wonderful brilliant eyes stared forth with uncanny intensity of expression. His hands were grimy, and his long tapering finger-nails had not been cleaned for weeks. Such was the man whom Alexandra Feodorovna, fascinated by his glance, had called to her side.
On arrival at the station of Tsarskoe-Selo we found one of the Imperial carriages awaiting us, with footman and coachman in bright blue liveries, with outriders.
Two flunkeys, also in blue, advanced, and, placing their hands beneath the saint's arms, lifted him into the carriage, an honour always paid to those who are special guests of His Majesty the Tsar. As for myself I climbed in afterwards, smiling within myself at the spectacle of the unwashed monk being lifted in as though he were an invalid. With us was an officer in uniform and a civilian--an agent of the Okhrana.
The moment we had seated ourselves the Imperial servants took off their c.o.c.ked hats and replaced them crosswise on their heads as sign that within the carriage was a guest of His Majesty, and in order to signal to pa.s.sers-by as we drove along to remove their hats or salute.
Rasputin had already been given instructions by General Erchoff, Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod, as to how we should act in the presence of Her Imperial Majesty. We had both attended before him, Rasputin well knowing that Erchoff was one of his most bitter enemies, but who on account of the Tsaritza's interest was now posing as a friend.
After our drive back to Rasputin's house the monk, flinging himself into a chair and lighting a cigarette, thoughtfully remarked:
”That puppet Erchoff will later on regret that he denounced me a year ago. His term of office is at its limit.”
The mock saint was possessed of an almost supernatural intuition. In everyday life he would tell me of things that would happen socially and politically, and sure enough they would happen. The gift of looking into the future is given to a few men and women in the world, those persons who sometimes when they look into the face of another hold their breath and remain silent, because they see death written upon the countenance before them. This curious faculty was possessed by Rasputin to a very marked degree--a faculty which has puzzled scientists through all the ages, a faculty which usually runs side by side with an overweening vanity and an amazing self-consciousness. Sometimes the possessor of that most astounding and mysterious intuition is also possessed of a humble and retiring disposition. But it is seldom.
Grichka, as all Russia called him, was an outstanding personality, clever, scheming, and as unscrupulous as he was avaricious. His mujik blood betrayed itself every hour.
Even as we sat there in the Imperial carriage as we drove to the Palace, he smiled with self-conscious sarcasm when the people saluted or doffed their hats to him as an Imperial guest.
At last we arrived before huge prison-like gates, which opened to allow us to pa.s.s, sentries saluted, the doors swung back again, and we found ourselves in the great well kept park of the Alexander Palace.
I saw two civilians walking together along the drive, which led into a wood. They were agents of the secret police patrolling the grounds, for every precaution was being taken to guard the persons of Their Majesties.
The death of the girl Vietroff had aroused the indignation of Russia to such an extent that the atmosphere was charged with anarchism.
Our road lay through woods, past a model dairy. Thence we went past two large farms, and out into open meadow lands, everything being kept most spick-and-span by the hundreds of servants.
The system of defence of Tsarskoe-Selo struck me as amazingly well designed. The road we had driven along seemed to be a maze, for twice we had left what appeared to be the main road, and pa.s.sing three guard-houses--small fortresses in themselves, in case of an attack by the revolutionists--we at last arrived before the main entrance of the royal residence, guarded by a detachment of fierce-looking Kubansky Cossacks.
These were drawn up standing at the salute, with their officers, as we approached. It was surely a picturesque guard of honour, with their quaint, old-fas.h.i.+oned pointed headgear, their smart comic-opera tunics, and their long, s.h.i.+ny boots.
In a great high white wall is an elegant gate of delicately wrought ironwork, with the usual striped sentry boxes on either side. Around are seated Chinese statues in bronze, each upon its pedestal. Over the gateway is the Imperial cipher in bronze, and beyond in the holy of holies is the long two-storied palace of Tsarskoe-Selo, that spot forbidden to all save to the guests of Their Majesties.