The Minister of Evil Part 12

My own estimate of him was that he was too neat, too well groomed, too civil, too bowing, and too anxious not to forget what he should say at the right moment. In a word, he was an elegant who had suddenly entered the Court entourage, in which there was no place for him.

The Tsar had no affection for him, and had merely appointed him because he believed that he might worry him less than others whose names and abilities had been put forward.

Poor Kokovtsov! He was in complete ignorance of the clever plot which Rasputin, at the Empress's suggestion, was engineering against his patriotic activities. Germany intended to rule Russia in the near future, and woe betide any statesman who would not remain inert and be spoon-fed by Teutonic propaganda, or place in his pocket the German marks held out so temptingly to him. In that way lay advancement, emoluments, decorations, and the Tsar's favour. To be Russian was, alas! to court disaster and ignominy.

Monsieur Kokovtsov was typically a good Russian. He had no fighting spirit, but was essentially a man of peace, entertaining a horror of bloodshed or of sanguinary deeds. His placid temper caused him to avoid all questions in dispute. He was prepared to do all possible to benefit our country. He had cleverly conducted the election campaign, and had all the governors of each province with him. The Emperor trusted him; the Empress hated him.

Besides, Kokovtsov was a worker. He did not believe in that favourite expression among Russians, "_nechevo_," which really means "nothing," but is equivalent to "don't bother" or "don't worry." In Russia we unfortunately always have a "_zarftra_," or to-morrow. For that reason he was disliked also by the people.

It was not many months after his appointment when one night, at the Poltavskaya, Rasputin received a visit from General Rogogin, the Director of the Black Cabinet, the _cabinet noir_, the existence of which was rigorously kept secret until the Revolution afforded the public a glimpse of Russia behind the scenes.

Even from the tribune of the Duma it was declared that the Black Cabinet was a fiction. Yet I happened to know that it existed, for later that evening I accompanied Rasputin and the Director to the General Post Office, where in three rooms on the second floor of the building the mysterious department, where correspondence was opened and read, was situated. Here was the most secret establishment of the Imperial Police.

For over a hundred years had this mysterious department been at work examining the letters of all cla.s.ses of people whose thoughts or doings could be of interest to the Tsar, his Minister of the Interior, or the Okhrana. Indeed, I learned from the general's conversation with the monk--I first having taken an oath never to divulge anything of what I saw or heard--that even the correspondence of the Tsar, his relatives, or friends was not immune from examination.

Then I instantly realised the reason that the Tsaritza and Rasputin, in communicating with their friends in Germany, sent their letters by hand.

On the night in question I stood watching with interest how letters for secret examination were taken from a lift which pa.s.sed up and down from the sorting-rooms above to the distributing room below. The basket was taken off the lift during its slow descent, and another basket subst.i.tuted containing letters already examined, so quickly that the man in charge of the lift below noticed nothing.

We saw several processes of opening letters by steaming them, first taking an impression in plaster of any seal, and also by cutting off the end of the envelope by means of a small guillotine. The letters were dexterously opened, photographed, replaced in their respective envelopes, refastened and new seals made, or in other cases the ends of the cut envelopes were resealed by means of paper pulp to match the colour of the envelope, and placed under pressure in a hot press, thus actually remaking the paper!

The watchman of this secret chamber was an illiterate, deaf and dumb peasant.

"Each functionary on being first admitted here," said Rogogin, "is compelled to take a solemn oath never to divulge its existence to a living soul--not to his wife, father, sister, brother, or dearest friend."

All was remarkable, a spying system of which I had never dreamed.

When we entered the Director's well-furnished private room and the door was closed, Rogogin took from a locker drawer a letter which he handed to the monk, saying:

"Here is the letter of which I spoke; if I hold it back it may arouse suspicion."

Rasputin, who could only read with difficulty, looked at the letter, and then, handing it to me with that lofty air he a.s.sumed in the belief that he could conceal his ignorance, said:

"Feodor, read it to me."

It was on grey paper, and was as follows:

"IMPERIAL RUSSIAN EMBa.s.sY, "UNTER DEN LINDEN, 7.

"June 8th.

"_Secret._

"YOUR EXCELLENCY,--In accordance with your instructions I beg to report confidentially as follows: On arrival here I presented my credentials of His Excellency our Amba.s.sador, and in consequence was allowed to conduct a confidential inquiry among the staff of the Emba.s.sy, and in other quarters, in which I have been actively a.s.sisted with excellent results by P. Ostrovski, agent of the Okhrana in Berlin, whom I recommend for advancement.

"My discoveries are several, and of an interesting nature. First, a person named Hardt, who is often resident in Petrograd, is the secret courier of the Empress between Potsdam and Tsarskoe-Selo.

Secondly, a sum of one hundred thousand marks was paid by the Dresdner Bank on March 11th last to the account of one Boris Sturmer, who has an account in Riga at the Disconto Gesellschaft.

Thirdly, the Emperor William on April 2nd gave audience in secret at the Berlin Schloss to M. Protopopoff, for which no reason can be a.s.signed. Fourthly, I have learned on the best authority that if Herr Hardt were arrested on any of his journeys to Sweden or Germany, some highly interesting private correspondence would be found upon him. Fifthly, there is no doubt whatever that the monk Rasputin is in receipt of money from this city, as I have in my possession a receipt given by him for two hundred thousand roubles paid him by the Deutsche Bank, and this I am bringing with me on my return.

"Further, I have doc.u.mentary evidence of a widespread German intrigue in Russia, facts which will, I feel confident, amaze your Excellency. When I return I shall place in your hands weapons by which the enemy may be combated. I hesitate to send any doc.u.ments through the post in case they miscarry, and I am addressing this letter to Mademoiselle Pauline, as your Excellency suggested.

"I have yet some further inquiries to make on your Excellency's behalf, but I intend to leave Berlin in any case on the twenty-second. I have the honour to remain, your Excellency's obedient servant, IVAN BOTKINE."

The monk listened attentively, his big, strange eyes wearing a sly, crafty expression. He fingered the jewelled cross suspended from his neck--a habit of his.

"Ah! So Botkine leaves Berlin on the twenty-second. It is well that we know this, my dear Rogogin--eh?"

"Yes," laughed the traitorous general. "He must not reach Russia."

"Of course not," agreed the monk. "We must obtain possession of this doc.u.mentary evidence that he will carry upon him. Who is he?"

"Botkine is a confidential agent in Kokovtsov's employ," was the Director's reply. "He was, I find, a.s.sistant-director of police in Nijni before the Minister was appointed, and is now in His Excellency's private service."

"Well, it is excellent that by your astuteness, my dear General, we are forewarned. If not, there might very easily have resulted a serious contretemps--eh?"

"Exactly."

"And who is this Mademoiselle Pauline?" asked Rasputin, his clever criminal brain already at work to defeat a revelation of the truth.

"Pauline Lahure, the little French dancer at the Villa Rode."

"Lahure!" cried Rasputin. "I know her, of course, a music-hall artiste.

She has been lately taken up by the old Countess Bronevski. She was at my house only a fortnight ago, and wanted to become a 'sister'!"

"As spy of Kokovtsov--eh?"

"Without a doubt," I chimed in. "From all I hear His Excellency is a gay dog."

"True, my dear Feodor," remarked the monk, fingering the cross nervously, and then taking a cigarette which the general offered him. "But had not our friend Rogogin been on the alert and opened the dainty dancer's letters, what a trap we should have fallen into--not only ourselves, but the Empress also! Vladimir would have presented the doc.u.ments to the Emperor, and an unholy domestic scene would have resulted. This fellow Botkine must never reach Russia!" he added seriously.

"I agree," replied the general. "Let us see Gutchkoff at once," he added.

General Gutchkoff was a Jew and the director of the dreaded political police, with whom Rogogin, of course, worked hand-in-glove.

It was then nearly eleven o'clock at night, but we all three drove to General Gutchkoff's house in the Spaskaya. He was out, his man informed us.

"I must see him at once," said the monk loftily. "Where is he?"

"He went out to dinner, Holy Father, and he is probably now at the Krestovsky or at the Bouffes."

"Go at once and find him," said the monk. "It is a matter of extreme urgency, and we will await him here."

Thus ordered by Gregory Rasputin--who was all-powerful in the capital--the general's servant ushered us into a cosy little salon, placed a box of cigarettes and some liqueurs before us, and then himself left in a droshky to find his master, who was so well known in Petrograd as a _bon viveur_.

For half an hour Rasputin, much worried by the secret inquiries of the Premier into the doings of the pro-German camarilla, chatted with the general, more than once expressing fear regarding the perilous situation.

"Revelations seem imminent," he exclaimed anxiously. "The man Botkine must never arrive in Russia--you understand that, Rogogin!"

"I quite agree," said the Director of the Black Cabinet. "But Gutchkoff must see to it. I have done my part in the affair."

"You have done excellently, my dear friend--most excellently," declared the monk. "Nothing could have been better. I will mention your great services to the Empress. Yes, we must rely upon Gutchkoff."