l evidence at the inquest was that the pretty French governess
had been dead fully eighteen hours. Upon her or in her small hand-luggage
there was nothing to establish her identity. That she had taken poison
was the opinion of the expert medical witness. Yet the poison could not
be established. Apparently it was a case of suicide, for the laundry
marks and names of the makers of her clothing had been deliberately
removed.

One thing, however, was extremely mysterious. Upon the marble top of the
washhand-stand in the bedroom the police found some scrawled words in a
character they could not decipher. Experts were brought in, when it was
found that the writing was in Russian character, and the words were: "The
holy Starets is----"

This conveyed nothing to the London police, who, of course, knew nothing
save that a "Starets" in Russia is a "saint."

Therefore the experts at Scotland Yard were, after much patient
investigation, compelled to dismiss it as one of London's unsolved
mysteries.

Now for the truth.

One night, a year before, when I had returned with Rasputin from
Tsarskoe-Selo, we found awaiting us the somewhat dandified man of a
hundred aliases and as many disguises, the notorious Azef. He greeted us
both warmly, and being a close friend of Rasputin, the monk took him into
his cosy little den, where for over an hour they remained closeted
together.

I was one of the few who knew the secret of Azef's crimes. Indeed, when I
entered the room while the pair were talking I heard him ask with a
laugh:

"What if we give him a taste of the necktie of Stolypin--eh?"

"It certainly would be best, my dear Evno," the monk agreed. "That is if
you think the accusation can be well made."

"Trust me," laughed the great _agent-provocateur_. "A denunciation, the
discovery of papers--you have those of Buchman in your safe, by the way,
and they could be used--arrest, trial, and the necktie! It would be quite
easy, and his mouth would be closed."

"He is growing dangerous," growled Rasputin. "What you say is perfectly
true."

Then turning to me, he said:

"Feodor, bring those papers which Manuiloff brought me a week ago--the
papers used for the arrest of Professor Buchman in Warsaw."

I obeyed, well knowing how that file of incriminating correspondence with
an Anarchist group in Zurich had been forged by Stuermer's secretary
Manuiloff, and how it had been found among the professor's effects.

"The necktie of Stol