The watchman of this secret chamber was an illiterate, deaf and dumb peasant.
"Each functionary on being first admitted here," said Rogogin, "is compelled to take a solemn oath never to divulge its existence to a living soul—not to his wife, father, sister, brother, or dearest friend."
All was remarkable, a spying system of which I had never dreamed.
When we entered the Director's well-furnished private room and the door was closed, Rogogin took from a locker drawer a letter which he handed to the monk, saying:
"Here is the letter of which I spoke; if I hold it back it may arouse suspicion."
Rasputin, who could only read with difficulty, looked at the letter, and then, handing it to me with that lofty air he assumed in the belief that he could conceal his ignorance, said:
"Féodor, read it to me."
It was on grey paper, and was as follows:
"Imperial Russian Embassy,
"Unter den Linden, 7.
"June 8th.
"Secret.