f the Emperor, dismissed most of the
higher Church dignitaries in various parts of Russia, the new Procurator
of the Holy Synod having been appointed by him only a few weeks before.

Bishop Teofan, who had commenced life as a gardener, who had been
convicted as a criminal by the court of Tobolsk, and whose sister was a
"disciple" at Pokrovsky, held a long conference with the "saint" lasting
well into the night. Truly, they were the most precious pair of unholy
scoundrels in all Europe, both being in the immediate entourage of Their
Majesties, and both pretending to lead "holy" lives, though they were
gloriously drunk each evening.

Nevertheless, within forty-eight hours of Rasputin's conversation with
the Tsar, the Church of Russia had been swept clean of all its loyal
adherents, and in their places--even in the bishoprics of Kazan, Tver and
Odessa--were appointed alcoholic rascals of the same calibre as Rasputin
himself.

Is it, then, any wonder that Holy Russia has fallen?

Indeed, the new bishop of Kazan was, three days after his appointment,
found one night riotously drunk in one of the principal streets in the
city, and, as he was wearing ordinary clothes, was arrested by the
police, who did not recognise him, so that the precious prelate spent the
night in a cell! Such was our dear Russia in the midst of her valiant
struggle against the Hun!

My dissolute master, possessed as he was of superhuman cunning, held the
Empire in the hollow of his hand. He could make or break the most
powerful statesman within a single day. In that small fireproof safe of
his, concealed beneath the floor of the wine-cellar at the
Gorokhovaya--that safe in which were preserved so many amorous letters
from neurotic women whom the monk intended later on to blackmail--was
also much documentary evidence of the "saint's" vile plots,
correspondence which, later on, fell into the hands of the revolutionary
party, who revealed only a portion of it after Rasputin's tragic end.

Possessed of inordinate greed, the monk had a mania for amassing wealth,
yet what really became of his money was to me always a mystery. Though he
would have a balance of a million or so roubles at his bank to-day, yet
the day after to-morrow his pass-book showed payments of mysterious sums,
which would deplete his funds until often he had perhaps but a single
thousand roubles.

Into what channel went all that money which he received for bribery, for
creating appoi