From that conversation I gathered the diabolical nature of Rasputin"s plot against a perfectly innocent man, as revenge for his wife"s insults.
Next day we were called to the palace, for the Empress was sorely worried over the health of the Tsarevitch, and she implored the holy Father to pray for him, little dreaming that the ever-recurring attacks were due to the subtle poison administered in secret by her most trusted favourite, Madame Vyrubova. For several days we remained at the palace, while Rasputin performed one of his "miracles," namely, the restoration of the lad to his normal condition.
What if the Empress had known that the "miracles" in which she so fervently believed were merely performed by the administration of certain antidotes to the poison already given!
While at the palace on that occasion I witnessed some strange doings at a spiritualistic seance to which Bossant, the notorious French medium, had been commanded. The Emperor, Empress and their intimates were present, including Rasputin and myself, and when the circle was formed and the seance in full swing the Tsar consulted the spirit of his dead father as to how he should act in the conduct of the war against Germany.
The reply, of course, arranged by the Empress and her friends, was something as follows:
"Thou hast done well, my son, and thou art worthy the throne of the Romanoffs. Continue to defend our beloved land. Trust in the counsels of those about thee, of thy wife, of thy Ministers, especially Sturmer, Protopopoff and Soukhomlinoff, as well as the advice which the holy Father is ever giving thee. All have been sent to thee as good and faithful guides. My blessing is upon thee, O my son!"
Such was the "message" so cleverly given to the credulous monarch by the traitors and intriguers about him. And alas! he believed truly and absolutely, ignorant of the fact that some thousands of roubles had gone into the medium"s pocket as price of his connivance.
On returning to Petrograd late on Thursday night I found among the monk"s correspondence a letter from Madame Svetchine, a long, regretful letter, in which she expressed the greatest sorrow for the words she had uttered at the a.s.sembly of the sister-disciples, and begged to be forgiven.
Further, she announced her intention of calling upon the Father "upon a serious and urgent matter."
I told him this, whereat he growled:
"Ah! the woman is coming to her senses. Yes. If she comes I will see her.
She is pretty, Feodor--pretty--yes, very pretty."
I drew a long breath. The unfortunate woman knew, no doubt, the serious charge against her husband, but never dreamed that Rasputin was the cause of that false accusation.
Just before I ascended to my room to retire--the hour being about one o"clock in the morning--the telephone bell rang, and I answered it.
One of the officials at the War Office was, I found, at the other end.
"His Excellency the Minister has an urgent message to transmit to the Father," said the voice.
"Very well," I said, stating who I was.
"Then listen, please. The message he has written reads: "Colonel Ivan Svetchine has been tried by court martial, which sat until half an hour ago. He has been condemned on a charge of dealing with the enemy and revealing military secrets to Germany, and ordered to be executed for treason. The execution is fixed to take place in the Peter and Paul Fortress at dawn on Sat.u.r.day.""
I replaced the telephone receiver with a heavy heart. Yet another innocent man was to die as victim of Rasputin"s overweening vanity and evil influence in every quarter.
When I entered and told the monk, who was already in bed in a half-drunken state, he merely turned over and continued snoring.
On Friday night, when, as usual, we had returned from Tsarskoe-Selo in one of the Imperial motor-cars, I was told that a lady was waiting to see the Starets, but she would give no name. She was persistent that she must see him, and had already waited nearly three hours.
When I entered the waiting-room, a small chamber at the end of a corridor, I found it to be the wife of the condemned man. She was dressed in dead black, her beautiful face tear-stained and deathly pale.
"Ah! Monsieur Rajevski!" she cried, rushing towards me. "You know me--Madame Svetchine--eh?"
"Yes, madame," I said. "I remember you."
"You will let me see him--won"t you?" she cried in great distress, as she gripped my hand nervously. "He has, I hope, forgiven me; surely he----"
"I gave him your letter," I said.
"Yes--and what did he say?" she gasped in eagerness.
"Well, the truth is that he said nothing," I replied, adding: "He was much occupied with other things."
"Ah! I must see him!" cried the frantic woman. "I was wrong to speak as I did. The Father is the great power in Russia. I must throw myself upon his mercy."
I promised to take her to him, and left her to inform Rasputin of the arrival of his expected visitor.
With an evil glint in those terrible eyes of his, he rubbed his hands together.
"Good, Feodor!" he said, striding across the room. "I will see the woman.
Oh, yes, if she wishes to see me I will not deny her that pleasure," he added with biting sarcasm. Truly, he was weird and horrible in the hour of his triumph.
A few moments later I ushered the pale, wan woman in black into his presence.
"Holy Father!" she cried wildly, "forgive me--say that you forgive the unconsidered words of a weak and unworthy woman."
"Forgive--why?" he asked, standing erect and fingering his bejewelled cross. "I do not understand why I am honoured by this visit, madame."
"Ah! Of course you do not know. Pardon, I have forgotten to explain. My husband----" And she broke into tears. "My dear husband----"
"Well, what of your husband?" asked Rasputin. "He is at the front. Has he been wounded--or----"
"No, no--not that!" she cried. "They have made a false charge against him. Some woman named Isembourg, whom he knew in Vilna before the war, has made an allegation against him of traitorous dealings with the enemy. She has given over to the Ministry of War some doc.u.ments containing the plans of the defences of Grodno, which she declares he has sold to her! But it is lies--all lies. I know it!"
"Really, this is quite a romantic story, madame," said Rasputin, quite unmoved. "Why should this woman make such charges?"
"How can I tell? Ah! but you do not know the worst!" she went on. "The court martial actually accepted this woman"s statements--statements that were lies--all of them! My husband is devoted to me, and I love him--ah, so dearly! He is all in all to me. And----"
"But the woman--Isembourg, I believe you say--she is a friend of his, eh?" interrupted the monk, his hands crossed over his breast in that pious att.i.tude he always a.s.sumed when listening.
"She says she was his friend before the war--before we married, indeed.
Perhaps she was," answered the condemned man"s wife. "But she is undoubtedly an _agent-provocateuse_ of police set to tempt men to their downfall."
"Of that I have no knowledge," was Rasputin"s cold reply.
"But you will help me, holy Father! Do--for the sake of a man who is innocent--for the sake--the sake of his unborn child! Ah! you will show mercy, won"t you?" she begged.
"I do not follow you," was the monk"s reply, in pretence of ignorance.
In a frenzy of despair the wretched wife flung herself upon her knees before the scoundrel, and cried:
"My husband! There is yet time to save him! He--he is to be shot--to-morrow--as soon as it is light! You--and you alone--can induce the Emperor to order a revision of the sentence or a new trial. You will--you are all-powerful and divine!"
"Pardon, madame, that is not your true estimate of Gregory Rasputin," he said, with biting sarcasm. "Only a short time ago I was a charlatan and a fraud! No; your opinion cannot have altered in so short a time."
"But you--if you are sent by G.o.d to Russia--will never allow an innocent man to be murdered in this fashion--condemned upon the word of a notorious woman."
"The affair does not concern me, I a.s.sure you," he laughed. "If your husband has been condemned to death he must have had a fair and impartial trial by his brother officers. I am not a military man, and know nothing of such matters. If he has been found to be a traitor," added the unholy spy of Germany, "then the sentence is just."