"That is not surprising, Madame," laughed the "saint," leaning back in the chair where he had seated himself, "especially when you have told that spy certain secrets of our Government, which you obtained by examining the dossiers which have been passing through your husband's hands." "What do you mean?" she cried, starting up in indignation. "Ah, no," he said; "it is useless to pretend ignorance, Madame. Read this!" And he handed her a copy of what the German agent had written, saying: "I have the original, which I am passing to the authorities, so that they may take what action they deem best against you as a traitor and against your husband for negligence!" The unfortunate woman, when she scanned the statement, went pale to the lips, fully realising the extreme seriousness of the nature of her offence, now that her admirer was known to be a spy of Germany. "But you won't do that?" she gasped. "Think, Father, what it would mean both to my husband and myself! Think!" she cried hoarsely. "You have revealed the contents of certain highly confidential documents to the Germans," the monk said. "You do not deny it. You, Madame Doukhovski, are a traitor to Russia, and evidence of your treachery is contained in that confession of a German spy whom you assisted and whom you----" "I looked at the dossiers on my husband's table because Monsieur Lachkarioff asked me to do so," she declared. "He told me he was a friend of Soukhomlinoff, and that he was doing all he could to assist in clearing him of the charges levelled against him. I believed him, alas!--I was foolish enough to believe that he spoke the truth. And now he has betrayed me!" "I suppose you were infatuated by the man," laughed the monk scornfully. "If you were so weak, then you must pay the penalty." "And that is--what?" she asked breathlessly, and pale as death. "Exposure," replied the charlatan who was the head of the traitorous camarilla around the throne. "Our dear land is in serious peril to-day, therefore those who attempt to betray her should be held up as examples to others." "But you will not--you'll not let anyone know of my indiscretion!" she begged. "That certainly is my intention," was his hard reply. "This statement was made to me by your lover, and it is but right that it should be investigated, so that we may know the extent of the harm that you have done." The frantic, despairing woman, bursting into tears, threw herself at the feet of the "miracle worker," begging hard for mercy. "Think!" she cried. "Think what it will mean to my husband and myself. He will probably be placed under arrest and lose his post, while I--I would rather die than face such exposure." "Ah! my dear Madame," said Rasputin tauntingly. "Life is very sweet, you know." "But you must not do this!" she shrieked loudly. "Promise me, Father, that you will not! Promise me--do!" Rasputin drew his hand roughly from her, for she had seized it as she implored him to show her mercy.