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Updated: May 24, 2025
One day a messenger arrived in blue and yellow uniform to bid the Tsar gird himself for war. Fate had indeed dealt her a smashing blow. Once her Imperial lover left her side she would at once be taken prisoner and flung God knows where. This she knew instinctively, intuitively. Klick describes for us her dramatic scene with the Tsar.
Shoot cannon. Bling help. Maxon come klick. Bling men. Chase'm 'way," explained the Chinaman. "But plilates see 'em pletty white girl," he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head dubiously, "then old Sing no can flighten 'em 'way." The girl shuddered, and crouching close behind Sing hurried below.
In Nicholas Klick's "Life of Anna Podd" he states that she met the Tsar at a ball, whence she was hired professionally. This statement is entirely untrue; and I am more than surprised that such a talented man as Klick should have made such a grievous error. It has been absolutely impossible to unearth the true story of her meeting with the Tsar.
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.
Thinking it but a native trading boat, so many of which ply the southern seas, Virginia viewed its approach with but idle curiosity. When it had come to within half a mile of the anchorage of the Ithaca, and was about to enter the mouth of the harbor Sing Lee's eyes chanced to fall upon it. On the instant the old Chinaman was electrified into sudden and astounding action. "Klick!
Poor Anna, her beauty was alike her joy and her terror. The Tsarina, Klick informs us, was somewhat plain, and knew it hence her distaste for the dazzling Anna. One day, the Tsarina died no one knew why. Anna, guileless and innocent enough, was at once suspected by all as having poisoned her, except the Tsar, who, to avert further suspicion, promptly created her Duchess of Poddoff.
The savage headdress of the Dyaks, the long, narrow, decorated shields, the flashing blades of parang and kris sent a shudder through the girl, so close they seemed beneath the schooner's side. "What do? What do?" cried Sing in consternation. "Go b'low. Klick!" But before he had finished his exhortation Virginia was racing toward the bow where the machine gun was mounted.
Klick!" he cried, running toward Virginia. "Go b'low, klick." "Why should I go below, Sing?" queried the girl, amazed by the demeanor of the cook. "Klick! Klick!" he urged grasping her by the arm half leading, half dragging her toward the companion-way. "Plilates! Mlalay plilates Dyak plilates." "Pirates!" gasped Virginia. "Oh Sing, what can we do?" "You go b'low. Mebbyso Sing flighten 'em.
A dozen paces straight through the underbrush, then a sharp turn at right angles for no apparent reason, only to veer again suddenly in a new direction! Thus, turning and twisting, the tortuous way led them toward the south end of the island, until Sing, who was in advance, gave a sharp cry of surprise. "Klick! Look see!" he cried excitedly. "Blig blute dead vely muchee dead."
"For God's sake, Sing, what is the matter?" cried von Horn. "Where is Miss Maxon?" "Big blute, he catchem Linee. Tly kill Sing. Head hit tlee. No see any more. Wakee up all glone," moaned the Chinaman as he tried to gain his feet. "Which way did he take her?" urged von Horn. Sing's quick eyes scanned the surrounding jungle, and in a moment, staggering to his feet, he cried, "Look see, klick!
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