CHAPTER XVII
Five or six years ago some Russian cousins of mine came for a short stay to Paris, and for the first time they pronounced before me the name of "Rasputin," telling me of his disastrous influence at Court and particularly over the Empress. "He has persuaded her"—they told me—"that the Tzarevitch will die if she continues to live with the Emperor as his wife, his object being to assure to the enemies of the Romanoffs that their hope will be accomplished and that no other heir will be born to the Emperor, which is their great fear." Besides, at that period the Empress was ill and nervous, and at times could not walk, having to be wheeled about in an invalid's chair; to-day, I am told, she has returned to that chair, in Siberia, whither her unqualifiable conduct has led her.
The Emperor certainly had an heir, and for once rumour was right as to what had indeed happened to the poor child, and he had been made to forfeit the hope of posterity to the line of which he might well be the last member. "Therefore he will not reign," said my cousins. The Emperor had even chosen his successor, a son of one of the Grand Dukes.[1]
- ↑ The Tzar's brother had at this time been excluded from the succession on account of having contracted a morganatic marriage.
