Part 22 (2/2)
The neophyte, beneath the extraordinary hypnotism of the ”saint,” felt the dirty fingers upon her brow, as, in a strange jargon of religious phrases and open blasphemy, he p.r.o.nounced a kind of benediction upon her, adjuring her carefully to preserve the secrets of the sect ”from your own mother and father, sister, brother, husband and child.” Then he added: ”In me, Gregory Rasputin, you see the One sent by Heaven as the Healer and Deliverer of Russia from the hands of the oppressor. To me the Emperor, but an earthly king, hath delegated his imperial powers. I am the saviour of Russia. Believe in me and in my teachings and ye shall have life, health and prosperity--with the life beyond the grave.
Disobey, and thou shalt be eternally d.a.m.ned, together with all thy family. I, Gregory Rasputin, who hath been sent to thee as saviour,” he added, ”take unto me as sister Paula Vladimirovna to be my disciple!”
”May G.o.d forbid!” cried a woman's voice from among those a.s.sembled. ”Let us end this blasphemy!”
The effect was almost electrical. Rasputin started, and gazed at the rows of elegantly-dressed women, his disciples, and the few good-looking young women whom he had invited to be present.
”Yes,” went on a young and pretty woman seated at the back of the little audience. ”I repeat those words!”
Startled myself at the boldness of the young lady, I saw that she was dark, extremely good-looking, and refined. Rasputin had met her a week before at the salon of old Countess Lazareff, and she having expressed a desire to know more of the secret cult of which so many curious rumours were rife in Petrograd society, he had allowed Madame Trevetski, the wife of the ex-Commander-in-Chief in the Caucasus, to bring her that afternoon.
Now, it must be said that no lady was admitted to those weekly reunions of the sister-disciples unless she first had the full approval of the Starets. She must be good-looking and possessed of either wealth or influence, but in preference wealth. And it was certain that no woman was ever invited unless it was Rasputin's intention to admit her to the secrets of his ”religion.”
Yet here was open defiance! This lady, whose name was Madame Anastasia Svetchine, was the wife of Colonel Svetchine, who was on the Staff of the Etat-Major at Vilna, and who was already at the battle front. Before Rasputin had allowed her to be brought to his house it had fallen to my lot to make some inquiries concerning her, and I had found that she was of good family, that her husband was possessed of fair means, and that besides their house in Vilna they had a comfortable residence in the Kirotshnaya, in Petrograd. She moved in that rather gay, go-ahead set of which, prior to the war, the reckless Madame Soukhomlinoff was the centre, and she had recently become quite a notable figure in Petrograd society.
Rasputin, furious at her interruption, roared:
”Silence, woman! Go out of the room at once!”
But Madame Svetchine, springing to her feet, cried: ”It is monstrous!
Disgraceful! Blasphemous! It is true what Purichkevitch has said in the Duma--that you are the evil force in Russia! Though a woman, I will have none of your mock piety and disgraceful licentiousness!”
”Ah! I see, madame, that you are an enemy--eh?” he said in a slow, deliberate way. ”And let me tell you, when Gregory Rasputin has an enemy, he does not rest until that enemy is swept from his path. If you defy me, you defy your G.o.d!”
”I defy you!” cried the woman shrilly, making a dramatic scene. ”But I fear my G.o.d, and Him alone.”
”Oh! be silent, I beg!” cried Countess Lazareff in French, wringing her hands, she having introduced her, while all were horrified that the holy Father should be thus openly denounced before his ”sisters.”
”What is that woman saying?” the monk shouted across to me, for he did not know French, and was suspicious that the words contained yet another insult until I translated them to him.
”I refuse to be silent!” declared the colonel's young wife. ”I will describe to all whom I meet what has taken place here to-day--the mockery of it all. It is shameful how any woman in her senses, refined and educated, should fall beneath the fascination of such a brute!”
This was greeted with wild exclamations of surprise and indignation.
Indeed, so furious became the ”sisters” at such open insult that I was, at Rasputin's orders, compelled to conduct her out.
In the hall the young lady, who was certainly very pretty, became quite quiet again, and turning to me said:
”Monsieur Rajevski, I came here on purpose to denounce that infernal charlatan who is your employer. I am not without friends--and influential ones. I have spoken my mind fearlessly and openly. No doubt I have made an enemy of Grichka, but for that I care nothing, so long as I have exposed him.”
Little did the unfortunate young lady know of Rasputin's low cunning and diabolical unscrupulousness when she had uttered those words. I made no reply, for I feared that she would live to regret having created that scene in the monk's holy-of-holies.
Late that evening, having been out, I returned to find the ”saint” seated with the Minister Maklakoff, the man whom the newspaper _Utro Rossy_ described as ”The love-sick Panther.” Both were in an advanced state of intoxication, and when I entered, Rasputin, in a thick voice, exclaimed:
”Ah! my dear Feodor, I have just been describing the scene to-day with that woman Anastasia Svetchine--the little spitfire! But a pretty woman, Feodor--very pretty woman, eh? It's a pity”--he sighed--”a great pity!”
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