For various reasons Colonel Bernstorff could not marry at once, but it was agreed that six months later they should become man and wife. This suited Anna all right, and when she parted from him she went on to Crefeld, where she intended to see if she could swindle some of the officers of the garrison out of a big amount. She wanted it badly, for she had been afraid to ask the colonel for a loan, because she had no desire to give him a chance to break their engagement. Bernstorff belonged to a well-known German family. He was a member of several exclusive Berlin clubs, and he had the entrée to the Royal Palaces. She knew that when they were married she would be presented at Court, and once that happened there was no reason why she should not, with the secret aid of her old friend, the Crown Prince, become quite a personage in society.
But meanwhile she must "raise the wind" somehow, and so to Crefeld she went, where at the time a battalion of the Prussian Guards was stationed. It included amongst its officers several rich young noodles, and it was to lay siege to the latter that Anna, with her most fascinating gowns, started for the town.
She undoubtedly had an alluring manner, and shortly after her arrival her apartments were frequented by several of the officers. Anna, still maintaining her bogus rank of baroness, provided all sorts of gambling games, in which she declined to take part, declaring that she had never played for money in her life. Occasionally she would back the luck of a young officer, and when he won she was rewarded with a pair of gloves or some similar trifle. Anna would accept the gift with as much gratitude and delight as though it were a thousand guinea bracelet, but all the time she was waiting to achieve her object. The officer she was "shadowing" had just come of age, and she knew that he had a large amount at his bankers which he was doing his best to get rid of.
One night he lost all his ready money—a considerable sum—and as he was anxious to go on Anna lent him a thousand marks (fifty pounds) with which to continue. But his luck was terrible, and eventually he rose from the table thousands to the bad. It was nothing to him, however, and after a touching interview with "adorable Anna," as he called her, he was assisted to his carriage by his servant. Next day he called and left a cheque for the amount the impostor had lent him.
The adventuress had been waiting for this, and she cleverly altered the carelessly-drawn cheque from a thousand marks to one hundred thousand. It was promptly honoured by the Berlin bank, and as soon as Anna had the whole amount she prepared for flight. But an hour before her train was due to leave she was arrested at the station. The Berlin bank had on second thoughts telegraphed to the officer asking for confirmation of the cheque. He had replied denying that he had recently drawn one for such a large amount, and Anna's capture followed.
It was not very difficult for the police to find proof of many of her swindles. She had imposed upon scores of tradespeople, and had obtained a lot of money by false pretences from elderly and infatuated Huns. A very heavy indictment was presented against her, but it was for the forgery of the cheque that the judge sentenced her to three years' penal servitude.
Anna was stunned by her misadventure. She had hitherto been so successful as an impostor that it seemed as if she was immune from failure, but now she was a convict, destined to pass three long years in a horrible German prison, and when she heard that she was to be sent to the women's convict establishment at West Gradenz she nearly collapsed, for it was one of the worst, the severe discipline frequently driving weak-minded convicts insane. There was no appeal, however, and one grey October morning she found herself handcuffed to another convict, and passing through the gloomy portals of the ghastly prison. It was a rule that each new-comer should be inspected by the governor, and Anna was in due course brought before that all-powerful official, the man who was to have the power of life and death over her until she had served her sentence.
She had been roughly thrust into a bare hall with white-washed walls, and she was staring ferociously at the hard earth floor when her companion whispered that the governor was there. Then she started up, and was petrified when she realized that the governor was Colonel Bernstorff.
He recognized her instantly, but with admirable self-control gave no sign. His appointment to this important post had been unexpected, and he had striven to obtain it so that he might be able to marry his fascinating sweetheart at once. And now she was a convict in his charge!
He tried to ignore her, but somehow she had completely won his heart, and a few days after her arrival he made a pretext for seeing her alone in his office. By now Anna, who had guessed that he would not be able to resist her, had compiled a moving story of persecution at the hands of her father, the Kaiser, and when the governor asked for an explanation she confessed, amid sobs, that she was the victim of a political intrigue. Except for certain additions occasioned by the new situation, it was the story she had duped Count Renenski with.