Rasputin decided to take leave of us at Verchoutouria, so we went on alone to Perm, where our saloon carriage was coupled to another train. Crowds came to stare at Anna, and some of their comments made me feel very uneasy. There was much dissatisfaction, and, when our saloon was uncoupled, it was done so forcibly that the carriage was almost derailed, and I was thrown from one end to the other. But we returned to Petrograd safely, there to be welcomed and thanked by the Empress.
“After all, Lili,” said Anna, now prostrate with nerves and a heart attack, “we must believe that God likes us to endure.”
I do not know whether this remark was reminiscent of the hermitage, or of the saloon carriage, but I was able honestly to thank God that I was once more within a civilized area.
Rasputin did not stay long in his village; he returned to Petrograd, and the brazen voice of scandal was again heard. One day, in 1916, when I was at Reval, the Empress telegraphed asking me to come and see her.
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.