t upon that
in every case."

"But--well, it is not nice to confess," declared the desperate man,
pausing on the threshold of the room.

"Probably not. But you do confess to me, and surely you can trust me, a
servant of Heaven, with your secret? If not, please do not rely upon
Gregory Rasputin," he added proudly.

For a second the victim hesitated. Then he said in a low, hard voice: "I
will do as you wish--well knowing that you will keep the truth a secret."

Rasputin, his hands still crossed upon his breast, bowed stiffly, and the
banker, recognising us standing at the end of the passage, walked towards
us.

As soon as he had left the house, Rasputin called us, and throwing
himself into a chair became unduly hilarious.

"Really, Peter, you are extremely clever!" he declared. "Where you find
these people I do not know. You said you had done a good stroke of
business, but I did not believe you. Yet now I see that the banker's
millions of roubles are entirely at our disposal. We must be
diplomatic--that is all!"

"Why does he require your influence?" inquired the prince.

"In order to extricate himself from a very dangerous position. At any
moment he may be arrested for murder!"

"For murder!" Gorianoff echoed. "Is he guilty of murder?"

"Yes. He has confessed the truth to me as a father confessor. Now he has
promised to put his confession down in black and white."

In an instant I saw the trend of Rasputin's evil thoughts. By the written
confession he would, through his princely friend, be able to extort money
without limit.

"Of what is he in fear?" asked the prince eagerly.

"Of arrest for the murder of a young French girl, Elise Allain, who had
been singing at the Bouffes in Moscow," Rasputin replied. "He has just
told me how he committed the crime three months ago, in order to rid
himself of her, and escaped to Brussels believing that the police would
never be able to establish his guilt. On his return to Tver three days
ago, however, he found that the police had been making active inquiries,
having discovered in one of the dead girl's trunks that had been left at
the station cloak-room in Warsaw, certain letters from him. Indeed, he
has received a visit from the Chief of Police at Tver, who closely
questioned him."

"Ah! Then he may be arrested at any moment--eh?"

"That is what he anticipates," said the monk. "He has gone to his hotel
to write his confession, and will return here in an hour with a