I obeyed, and found her alone, looking sad, and obviously much troubled in her mind. She did not, at first, touch on the subject nearest her heart; then, all at once, she told me how hard she thought it of people to speak against her so bitterly. “I know _all_, Lili,” she said. “Why does Gregory stop in Petrograd? The Emperor doesn’t wish it. I don’t. And yet we can’t possibly discard him--he’s done no wrong. Oh, why won’t he see his folly?” “I’ll do all in my power, Madame, to make him do so,” I replied. My heart overflowed with love for the Empress, she seemed so utterly broken, so tragically sad. “I’ve already reproached Anna for not helping me in the matter,” continued the Empress, and she gave me her permission to go at once to the house in Gorohovaya Street where Rasputin lived. I went with Anna. We did not find Rasputin alone. It was tea time and he was surrounded by a little crowd of admirers. Next to him sat his _âme damnée_, Akilina Laptinsky, the secret agent, under whose skilful tutelage Rasputin unconsciously played the well-planned game of the Revolutionaries. Akilina posed as a Sister of Charity, and many people believed in her; she possessed great influence with Rasputin, and in his unguarded moments he made many deplorable confidences in Akilina, who used everything she heard in a way detrimental to the Imperial Family. Akilina disliked me: she thought Anna was a weak fool, but I imagine that she regarded me as a foe more worthy of her steel. I acknowledged her presence, and I asked Rasputin if I could speak to him in private. “But certainly,” he answered, and we went into the next room, Akilina following us. “And now?” enquired Rasputin, seating himself. I did not mince matters. “Gregory,” I said bluntly, “you must leave Petrograd at once. You can pray for Their Majesties equally well in Siberia. You _must_ go--for their sakes, I implore you. Go--You know what is said--if you insist upon remaining, it will only mean danger for us all.” Rasputin considered me gravely--he did not speak. I could see Anna’s “hurt child” look, I could feel Akilina’s sinister scrutiny. Then Rasputin uttered these unexpected words: “Perhaps thou art right. I’m sick and tired of it all. I’ll go.” But a surprising interruption occurred. Akilina banged her clenched fist on the table, and confronted me with rage in her eyes. “How _dare_ you try and control the Father’s spirit?” she screamed. “I say that he _must_ stay. Who are you?--why, a nobody--you are too insignificant to judge what is best for anyone.” Silence, pregnant with meaning, fell in the little room. Anna was crying, Rasputin said nothing, but I still defied Akilina: the thought of the Empress gave me courage. “Are you going to listen to the Sister?” I demanded coldly. Akilina recommenced her table-banging. “If you leave Petrograd, Father, you’ll have bad luck--you are _not_ to go.” “Well--well--” said Rasputin helplessly, “perhaps thou art right. I shall stay.”