given you any money; 2) That I have insulted you in vain with my letters and personal calls in Russia and in America. I surmise that both you and I must have been the dupes of unscrupulous persons; 3) I entreat you on my bended knees to forgive me, I have suffered a nervous break-down from the horrors of the Revolution and from sorrow for Mother-Russia. Bless me with your Holy Benediction, and may I learn to be humble and patient. Pardon and forgive me, the sinful and unworthy one. I swear that to my dying day, I shall never make any demands on you. Please pray with your holy orisons for me. Your Spiritual Son
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The "To-Morrow" That Never Comes
Their "to-morrow" has lasted until this very day, and not alone that,—Father Richlov, in the name of Platon and his assistant, Alexander, has ever since then been threatening me with jail and deportation to Russia. "Your confession is in the hands of Metropolitan Platon, and if you utter one word about your money, you will land where you will never be found. And if you dare annoy me, my wife will make short shrift of you by throwing you out, and my son Volodia will thrust a knife into your belly. Don't forget with whom you are dealing—I am of Cossack descent!" After this, taking Priest ptashchuk with me, I called at the Consistory three times an twice at the office of the Chairman of the Russian Relief, Mr. V. V. Buimistrow, during June, 1922.
During my first call, on a Wednesday, I saw Bishop Alexander Nemolovsky. I asked him, in Father Ptashechuk's presence, when my $7,600.00 would be returned to me. I told him that so far I had received but $200.00 and the New Testament. The Bishop answered: "I know nothing about the matter. I sent you neither the Gospels nor the money. Come back on Friday at 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Father Richlov will be here and we will discuss your affair."
— 88 —
