s, whose
dearest wish is that a son be born unto our Imperial House. O God, I
beseech thee to grant us our request!"

From my place of concealment I saw the Tsaritza start visibly. She wore a
veil, so that I could not see her countenance. She had halted, entranced
by overhearing that prayer uttered by the unkempt stranger. I noticed
that she whispered a word to her companion, who, like herself, was
veiled, and then Her Majesty threw herself upon her knees, an example
followed by Mademoiselle Kamensky.

The Empress, her head bowed in silence, knelt before the weird impressive
shrine, side by side with the Starets. The great church was dark save for
the light of the myriad candles, and silent save for the twittering of a
bird, yet I could see that the pious exhortation of Rasputin had been
taken as an omen by Her Majesty.

Suddenly, the mock saint's voice again rang out clearly in the great
cavernous basilica as he repeated the prayer in clear impassioned
words--that same prayer which the Empress was repeating in silence.

Only the three knelt there. For a full ten minutes silence again reigned.
Neither of the kneeling figures stirred until Rasputin crossed himself
slowly, and for a third time, raising his voice still higher he besought
the Almighty to grant Russia an heir to the Throne.

Then, at last, he rose with slow dignity as became a saintly priest, and
again he made the sign of the cross.

As he did so the Empress who had raised her veil turned her head,
whereupon he halted for several seconds and gazed straight into her face
with that intense, hypnotic stare which always held women in such
mysterious fascination. I saw that the Empress was again startled, but
folding his hands across his breast, an attitude habitual to him, the
Starets passed out of the church without a second glance at her, leaving
her breathless and trembling.

When he had gone she turned in alarm and whispered with her
lady-in-waiting. Both women rose, and, following the monk, stood gazing
at his receding figure as he went down the long white road.

"A strange man surely, Zeneide!" I heard the Empress exclaim. "How
curious that, unconscious of my presence, he should be here, praying for
me--a holy man without a doubt! We must discover who he is. What eyes!
Did you notice them?"

"Yes. His gaze really frightened me," her companion admitted.

"Ah! His is the face of a true saint--a wonder-worker! Of that I am
certain. We must make in