thers have
done. In Berlin his appointment will give the greatest offence," she
said.

"I will ask the Almighty's intercession, for I see, O lady, that thou art
nervous and unstrung. Compose thyself, I beg of thee. All will be well,"
and the "healer" crossed himself piously.

Truly, the condition of our dear land was in parlous state. A vogue for
asceticism had sprung up, just as other vogues have become popular in
other European countries.

As head of this circle of ascetic followers the monk had, with the
connivance of Badmayev the herbalist, invented an expedient to deaden the
flesh so as to render it benumbed as with cocaine. Hundreds of
weak-minded women were flocking about him. Some of them were wives and
daughters of the wealthy manufacturing class, but most were of the high
aristocracy, who all regarded my employer as the Saviour of Russia, sent
by Heaven to reform and deliver the "Holy" land from the toils of unrest
and desolation.

We Russians are always idealists. That is our curse. Our religion is,
unfortunately, an obsession, for any drunken scoundrel can become a "holy
man" by simply making such declaration, and ever afterwards "sponging"
upon his neighbours. Rasputin was but an example of this.

After all, it was but natural that, with the bevy of female devotees ever
at his knees, he should attract the gossip of the scandalmongers. Much,
indeed, of what they said was true, for I happen to know that personally.

But on that day at Tsarskoe-Selo I noted the Empress's agitation that
Kokovtsov had been appointed, and began to suspect that the camarilla
would take drastic action in order to defeat him. Indeed, when the
Empress had left the room, Rasputin grew thoughtful in turn, and stroked
his unkempt beard as he paced the floor, saying:

"Ah, Feodor! We must crush this jackanapes. I must see what we can do."

Weeks went by. The usual meetings of the monk's "sister-disciples" were
held at the house in the Poltavskaya, and often in the presence of a
stranger or a female novice about to be admitted to the cult he pretended
to speak to Alexandra Feodorovna over his mock telephone.

Every action of the monk was that of an arrogant and erotic swindler. His
intelligence was, however, extremely perceptive, and he was not wanting
in finesse of the mujik order, combined with a sense of foresight that
was utterly amazing. These, with his suave manner, his affectation of
deepest piety, and his wonderful fasci