Part 5 (1/2)
”Are you both ready? The Tsaritza is awaiting you.”
Rasputin, though pretending to be careless of his personal appearance, stroked his long beard, and then announced his readiness to pa.s.s into the presence of the Empress.
”You will go first, and bow,” said our attendant. ”Your secretary will remain within the door with hands crossed before him,” he said.
Then with his knuckles he rapped thrice upon the white enamelled door, and, turning the handle of the lock, entered, walking before to announce us.
In front I saw a deep glow of electricity shaded with daffodil silk, a pretty artistic room with high palms, choice cut flowers, and soft luxurious couches upholstered in grey and gold brocade. There sat two ladies, one of whom was in a silk gown of bottle green, which was, no doubt, the latest creation of the Rue de la Paix--the Empress--while the other, who was in elegant black, I afterwards recognised as her bosom friend who had accompanied her to Kazan, Mademoiselle Zeneide Kamensky.
Ivan Aivasoff bowed low as he uttered his stereotyped words of introduction. He was one of those ignorant persons with whom the unscrupulous bureaucrats had surrounded the person of the Tsar. He was an honest, well-meaning fellow from the Urals, who had been selected to pose as a palace official, and to act just as I was acting, as the tool of others; a peasant chosen because he would naturally be less affected by revolutionary and progressive influence.
Aivasoff was, as I afterwards learnt, but one of many peasants in immediate contact with the Emperor and Empress, the other servants being German.
As we bowed before the two ladies they rose smiling, while the Father with raised hands p.r.o.nounced upon them his blessing in that pious, slightly hoa.r.s.e, but deeply impressive voice of his. Then, after the Empress had welcomed him he fixed her with that impelling, hypnotic gaze of his, and in pretence of never having met her before, exclaimed:
”O Gracious Lady, I have come here at thy bidding, though I am but a poor and unlettered wanderer, unfamiliar with palaces. My sphere is in the houses of the very poor in order to direct, to advise, and to succour them. Such is G.o.d's will.”
”Already, Father, we have heard of you,” responded the Empress, fascinated by the extraordinary thraldom of his gaze. ”Your great charitable works are well known to us, as they are known through the length and breadth of our Empire. It is said by many that you have been sent unto us as saviour of Russia.”
”Yes--it is so, by G.o.d's Almighty grace,” the mock saint said, bowing low at the Empress's words, while Mademoiselle Kamensky exchanged inquiring glances with myself.
That scene was, indeed, a strange one, the dirty, unkempt monk in his faded, ragged habit, greasy at collar and sleeves, his black matted beard sweeping across his chest, and his hair uncombed, standing erect and rather imperious, posing as a Divine messenger, in that luxurious private apartment of the Empress herself.
”It is but right that you, as our spiritual guide, should be in direct touch with the Emperor and myself,” she said, without, however, referring to the meeting at Kazan, to which I had certainly expected she would allude. ”From our friend Sturmer I have learnt much concerning your good works, Father, and I wish to support them financially, if I may be permitted, just as I did those of Father Gapon.”
”Truly I thank thee, O Lady,” he replied, bowing low again. ”My convent at Pokrovsky is in urgent need of funds.”
”Then I shall give orders for you to receive a donation immediately,” she said in a low voice, and with that p.r.o.nounced German accent which always reminded those with whom she came into contact that she was not a true-born Russian. ”Stolypin, too, has told me of the wonderful miracle you performed in Warsaw.”
I knew of that miracle, an outrageous fraud which had been perpetrated upon an a.s.sembly of ignorant peasants by means of a clever conjuring trick in which Rasputin's friend, the chemist Badmayev, and another, had a.s.sisted. Sturmer had been laughing heartily over it at Rasputin's house on the previous night.
”G.o.d hath given me strength,” replied the monk simply, and with much humbleness. ”I am His servant, sent by Him unto Russia as her guide and her deliverer. As such I am before thee.”
As he stood there with devout piety written upon his sallow, shrunken countenance, he certainly presented a most saintly, picturesque appearance, his att.i.tude being that of a most humble ascetic of the Middle Ages. Saint Francis of a.s.sisi could not have been humbler.
That Her Majesty was much impressed by the crafty charlatan was quite apparent. In that strange jumble of quotations from the Scriptures which he so often used, he declared to her that by Divine command he intended to guide Russia in her forthcoming progress and prosperity, so that she should rise to become the all-powerful nation of Europe.
”It is well, O Lady, that thou hast sent for me,” he added. ”I am thy most devoted servant. I am entirely in thy hands.”
And again crossing his begrimed hands upon his breast he raised his eyes to Heaven, and repeated his blessing in that same jumbled jargon which he used at the weekly seances of the sister-disciples.
”O Father, I sincerely thank you,” replied Her Majesty at last. ”The Emperor is unfortunately away in Moscow, but when he returns you must again come to us, for I know he will welcome you warmly. We are both striving for the national welfare, and if we receive your goodwill we shall have no fear of failure.”
”There are, alas! rumours of plots against the dynasty,” said Rasputin.
”But, O Lady, I beg of thee to heed these my words and remain calm and secure, for although attempts may be made, desperate perhaps, it is willed that none will be successful. G.o.d in His grace is Protector of the House of Romanoff, to whom a son will a.s.suredly soon be born.”
Alexandra Feodorovna held her breath at hearing those words. That scene before the shrine of Our Lady of Kazan was, no doubt, still vivid in her mind.
”Are you absolutely confident of that?” she asked him in breathless suspense.