Part 19 (1/2)

”You lie!” he shouted. ”He is at home. This house has been watched ever since six o'clock, when he returned. I will see him, and you dare not stop me.”

Then, ere I was aware of it, he seized me by the throat, hurled me back into the entrance-hall, and before I could prevent him marched straight to Rasputin's room.

I dashed after him, hearing the monk's shouts for a.s.sistance, and on entering found the ”holy man” lying on the floor and the infuriated Violle las.h.i.+ng him with a short whip he carried. The scene was a dramatic one. The scoundrel was shrieking with pain, and in endeavouring to avoid the blows succeeded in rising, but as he did so the furrier administered another sound whack, which sent the Empress's pet ”saint” skipping across the room howling.

”You dog of a mock monk!” cried the furrier. ”Take that!--and that!--_and that!_”

So beside himself with anger was he that I believe he would have beaten Rasputin to death had not Striaptchef dashed in, and together we succeeded in dragging the angry man off and turning him out of the house.

As soon as the ”saint” had recovered from the _fracas_, he gave vent to a volley of fearful oaths, cursing the pretty woman who had been the cause of the a.s.sault.

”She shall be kicked out. I will see that she goes to the palace no more,” he declared. ”If a woman cannot manage her husband then she is dangerous. And Olga Violle has proved herself to be dangerous. I will see that Alix dismisses her to-morrow. And all on account of that thrice-accursed picture-making. To think that I--the Saviour of Russia, sent to these people by the Almighty--should be whipped like a dog!”

He strode up and down foaming with fury.

”The skin-dealer shall suffer!” he cried. ”I'll make him pay dearly for this!”

Then, turning to me, he ordered me to go at once to Manuiloff, Sturmer's secretary, adding: ”Bring him to me. Tell him that it is a matter of greatest urgency.”

I had great difficulty in finding the man he had indicated, and who was one of Russia's ”dark forces.” He was not at his house, but by bribing the doorkeeper I learned that he would be found in a very questionable gambling-house in the vicinity. There I discovered him and drove him to the Gorokhovaya.

”Listen,” the monk said as I ushered him in. ”There is a furrier in the Nevski named Violle. Both he and his wife are dangerous revolutionists and must be arrested at once. You understand--eh?”

Manuiloff, the catspaw of both Sturmer and Rasputin, and who was well paid to do any dirty work allotted to him, did not quite understand.

”You denounce him--eh?” he asked. ”There are reasons, of course.”

”Of course there are reasons, you fool, or I should not bring you here at this hour to tell you of the conspiracy against the Throne. I make the allegation; you must furnish the proofs. Do you now understand?” asked the ”saint.”

”Ah, I see! You want some doc.u.ments introduced into the furrier's house incriminating both him and his wife?”

”Exactly. And at once. They must both be arrested before noon to-morrow,”

Rasputin said. ”I shall leave all the details to you, well knowing that they will be in good hands, my dear Manuiloff,” laughed Rasputin grimly.

”One thing is important. There must be no loophole for either of them to escape. The Empress wills it so. Both must be sent to Schlusselburg. Tell His Excellency so from me. We want no trial or attempt at scandal. The pair are dangerous--dangerous to us. Now do you understand?”

Manuiloff, who had forged incriminating doc.u.ments many times, and who had a dozen underlings who a.s.sisted him in these nefarious deeds, understood perfectly. He was paid to act as his two chiefs directed, and dozens of innocent persons were rotting in prison at that moment because they had fallen beneath Rasputin's displeasure.

So it was that by noon next day both Violle and his pretty wife--who had only the day before been a close friend of the Tsaritza--were on their way to Schlusselburg as dangerous to the State.

Truly, the monk had neither scruples nor honesty, neither compunction nor pity; for the woman who was his favourite he had turned upon and sent to that grim island fortress, where in one of those terrible oubliettes below the level of the lake her death took place eight months later.

CHAPTER VIII

RASPUTIN THE ACTUAL TSAR

THE tragi-comedy of Tsarskoe-Selo was being played with increasing vigour just prior to the war. Berlin, through Rasputin, piped the tune to which the Imperial Court was dancing--the Dance of Death!

One night, after Rasputin had dined with Madame Vyrubova and myself, General Soukhomlinoff, Minister of War, entered, swaggering in the uniform of the Grodno Hussars.