"Ostrovski is very reliable, and has been entrusted with the most
delicate affairs. He has always given me the greatest satisfaction."

"I regret if he is under your protection, but that does not alter
matters. He and Botkine have been acting in unison, and hence Ostrovski
knows more of this scandal concerning a certain member of the Imperial
family than is good for him to know. Promote him with increased salary to
Yokohama, and send him there by way of Marseilles upon some confidential
mission. But on no account must he return to Russia before going to
Japan--you understand? He will no doubt wish to travel by way of Siberia,
but this must be forbidden. If you will write out his appointment, I will
obtain the Emperor's signature to it to-morrow morning."

"You wish me to write out the order now--eh?" asked Gutchkoff, still much
puzzled, but eager to get scent of the particular scandal known to
Botkine.

"Yes, now," replied the monk, pointing to the writing-table, whereupon
the Police Director sat down and wrote out the order transferring the
agent Ostrovski to Japan, an order which Rasputin, after pretending to
read it, handed to me to place in my pocket.

"And now, what about this person Botkine?" asked Gutchkoff. "How do you
wish me to act towards him?"

"In the way that I will direct to-morrow," replied the monk. "I must have
time to devise some plan--a plan which will be secret and arouse no
suspicion," he added grimly, with a sinister smile.

Early next morning I accompanied him to Peterhof, where the Imperial
Court happened to be. Anna Vyrubova was away in Moscow, but without delay
he sought the Empress and remained in her boudoir for a full hour, no
doubt explaining the discovery of Kokovtsov's inquiries in Berlin.

I met the Prime Minister himself in the long corridor guarded by "Araby"
servants which led to the Emperor's private cabinet, and with him was
General Gutchkoff, who had evidently also been summoned to audience
regarding some matters concerning the police administration. Kokovtsov
had no suspicion of what Rasputin had learned, or that Gutchkoff had
promised to act as he directed against his trusted agent Ivan Botkine.

The pair strolled along the softly carpeted corridor, chatting affably,
for they were apparently going to consult His Majesty together. Truly,
the Court world is a strange life of constant intrigue and
double-dealing, of lack of morals and of honesty of purpose and of
patriotism