as just retiring to bed," he writes, "preparatory to making an
early start the next morning, when the door burst open, and Anna,
tear-stained and sobbing, threw herself into the room and, hurling
herself to the bed, flung herself at his feet, which, owing to his
immensity of stature, were protruding slightly over the end of the
mattress. 'Take me with you!' she cried repeatedly. 'No, no, no!'
replied the Tsar, equally repeatedly. At length, worn out by her
pleading, the poor woman fell asleep. It was dawn when the Tsar,
stepping over her recumbent form, bade her a silent good-bye and went
out to face unknown horror. Half an hour later Anna was flung into a
dungeon, preceding her long and tiring journey to Siberia."

Thus Klick describes for us the pulsating horror of perhaps one of the
most pitiful nights in Russian history.

In those days the journey to Siberia was infinitely more wearisome than
it is now. Poor Anna! She was conveyed so far in a litter, and so far in
a sleigh, and when the prancing dogs grew tired she had perforce to
walk. Heaven indeed have pity on those unfortunate women from whom the
eye of an Emperor has been removed.

For thirty long years Anna slaved in Siberia. She drew water from the
well, swept the floor of the crazy dwelling wherein she lived, lit the
fire, and polished the samovar when necessary. In her heart the bird of
hope occasionally fluttered a draggled wing: would he send for
her--would he? If only the war were ended! But no! Rumours came of
fierce fighting near Itchbanhar, where the troops of General Codski were
quartered. It was, of course, the winter following the fearful siege of
Mootch. According to Brattlevitch in Volume II. of "War and Why," the
General had arranged three battalions in a "frat" or large semi-circle,
in the comparative shelter of a "boz" or low-lying hill, in order to
cover the stealthy advance of several minor divisions who were thus able
to execute a miraculous "yombott" or flank movement, so as to gain the
temporary vantage ground of an adjacent "bluggard" or coppice. All this,
of course, though having nothing material to do with the life of Anna
Podd, goes to show the reader what a serious crisis Russia was going
through at the time.

It was fifteen years after peace was declared that the Tsar sent a
messenger to Siberia commanding Anna's immediate release and return, and
also conferring upon her the time-honoured title of Podski. Anna was
hysterical wit