Part 4 (1/2)
Outwardly Sturmer, Protopopoff, the Bishop Teofan, and their place-seeking friends were good loyal Russians bent upon winning the war. In secret, however, they were cleverly arranging to effect various crises. The supply of food was held up by a ring of those eager to profit, and the Empire became suddenly faced with semi-starvation, so that rioting ensued, and the police were kept busy. Then there succeeded serious railway troubles, congestion of traffic to and from the front, ”faked” scandals of certain females whom the camarilla charged with giving away Russia's secrets to Germany. Some highly sensational trials followed, much perjured evidence was given, false reports of _agents provocateurs_ produced, and several officers in high command who, though perfectly innocent, were actually condemned as traitors, merely because they had become obnoxious to Rasputin and his circle.
One day a sensational incident occurred when Rasputin visited the Ministry of the Interior, and sought the Adjunct-Minister Dzhunkovsky, who controlled the police of the Empire.
On being shown into his room the monk insolently demanded why he was being followed by police-agents, and why his friends who visited his house in the Gorokhovaya were being spied upon.
”My duty, my dear Father, is to know what is in progress in Petrograd,”
replied the Minister coldly.
”Are you not aware that I am immune from espionage by your confounded agents?” cried Rasputin in anger. ”Are you in ignorance that my personal safety is in charge of the special Palace Police who are responsible for the safety of the Emperor?”
”My own actions are my own affair,” was the chill reply--for truth to tell--the Revolutionists had already imparted to Dzhunkovsky certain evidence they had collected as to the traitorous conduct of the pseudo-monk and his traitorous friends.
High words arose. Grichka, losing his temper, made use of some very insulting remarks regarding the Minister's young wife, whereupon Dzhunkovsky sprang from his chair and promptly knocked down the ”Saint.”
An hour later Rasputin, with his eye bandaged, sat with the Empress in her room overlooking the Neva, and related how he had been a.s.saulted by the Adjunct-Minister of the Interior, merely because he had expressed his unswerving loyalty to the throne. To the Empress the unwashed charlatan was as a holy man, and such insult caused her blood to boil with indignation.
The fellow knew quite well that no word uttered against himself was ever believed by either Emperor or Empress. They were all said to be stories invented by those jealous of the Saint's exalted position, and the wicked inventions of enemies of the Dynasty. Therefore, what happened was exactly what he expected. In a fury the neurotic Empress rose and went off to the Tsar who, then and there, signed a decree dismissing his loyal Adjunct-Minister from office, and appointing an obscure friend of Rasputin's in his place!
In that same week another incident occurred which caused the Saint no little apprehension. His Majesty had appointed Samarin as Procurator of the Holy Synod, an appointment which Rasputin knew might easily result in his own downfall. Samarin, an honest, upright man, was one of his most bitter enemies, for he knew the disgraceful past of both him and Teofan, and further he had gained accurate knowledge of which appointments of Bishops in the Pravoslavny Church had been the outcome of the ex-horse stealer's influence. Therefore, the arch-adventurer saw that at all hazards this new Procurator must not be allowed to remain in office, for already he had announced his intention to clear the Pravoslavny Church of its malign influences and filthy practices.
Three days later Rasputin went out to Tsarskoe-Selo, where the Emperor happened to be, and entering His Majesty's private cabinet said in a confidential tone:
”Listen, Friend. I have a secret to whisper to thee! Last night I was with Sturmer, and he revealed that a great revolutionary plot is afoot for thy deposition from the Throne!”
”What!” cried the Emperor, pale with alarm as he sprang from his chair.
”Another plot! By whom?”
”Its chief mover is the man Samarin, whom thou hast appointed Procurator of the Holy Synod,” replied the crafty adventurer. ”Sturmer urged me to come at once and to tell thee in private.”
”Are you quite certain of this, Holy Father?” asked the Emperor, looking straight into his bearded face.
The monk's grey steely eyes, those hypnotic eyes which few women could resist, met the Tsar's unwaveringly.
”Thou knowest me!” was the ”Saint's” grave reply. ”When I speak to thee, I speak but only the truth.”
That same day Samarin was removed from office and disgraced. Everyone wondered why his appointment had been of such brief duration, but that same night, the Prime Minister Sturmer and Rasputin drank champagne and rejoiced together at the house in the Gorokhovaya, while Anna Vyrubova, the favourite lady-in-waiting, was also with them, laughing at their great triumph.
Not a person in all the great Empire could withstand Rasputin's influence. Honest men feared him just as honest women regarded him with awe. From dozens, nay hundreds, of place-hunters and favour-seekers he took bribes on every hand, but woe betide those who fell beneath the blackguard's displeasure. It meant death to them. He was certainly the most powerful and fearless secret agent of all that the Huns possessed, scattered as they were in every corner of the globe. Yet it must not be supposed that there were none who did not suspect him. Indeed, a certain committee of revolutionaries, to whose action Russia is to be indebted, were watching the fellow's career very closely, and some of the secret reports concerning him here as I write form intensely interesting reading, astounding even for the unfathomable land of Russia.
Within a few weeks of his triumph over the newly-appointed Procurator of the Holy Synod he discovered, with the innate shrewdness of the Russian mujik, that certain secret reports seriously compromising him had been given into the Emperor's hand. His Majesty, in turn, had shown them to his wife. Once again, he saw himself in peril, so, before any action could be taken, he abruptly entered the Empress's room at Tsarskoe-Selo, and boldly said:
”Heaven hath revealed to me in a vision that the enemies of the dynasty have spoken ill of me, have maligned me, and have questioned my divine power. I have therefore come to bid farewell of thee!”
The Empress, who was seated with Madame Vyrubova, and the old Countess Ignatieff, rose from her chair, pale to the lips.
”You--you--you are surely not going, Holy Father!” she gasped. ”You cannot mean that you will desert us!” she cried. ”What of poor little Alexis?” and the words faded from her lips.
”Yes, truly I am going! Our enemies have, alas, triumphed! Evil triumphs over good in this terrible war,” was his slow, impressive answer.
”Of Alexis,”--and he shook his shock head mournfully.
”Ah, no!” shrieked the unhappy Empress hysterically.