Clementina
By
A.E.W.
Mason
Author
of
"
The
Courtship
of
Morrice
Buckler
"
"
Parson
Kelly
"
etc.
Illustrated
by
Bernard
Partridge
New
York
Frederick
A
.
Stokes
Company
Publishers
1901
THIRD
EDITION
UNIVERSITY
PRESS
JOHN
WILSON
AND
SON
,
CAMBRIDGE
,
U.S.A.
CHAPTER
I
The
landlord
,
the
lady
,
and
Mr.
Charles
Wogan
were
all
three
,
it
seemed
,
in
luck
's
way
that
September
morning
of
the
year
1719.
Wogan
was
not
surprised
,
his
luck
for
the
moment
was
altogether
in
,
so
that
even
when
his
horse
stumbled
and
went
lame
at
a
desolate
part
of
the
road
from
Florence
to
Bologna
,
he
had
no
doubt
but
that
somehow
fortune
would
serve
him
.
His
horse
stepped
gingerly
on
for
a
few
yards
,
stopped
,
and
looked
round
at
his
master
.
Wogan
and
his
horse
were
on
the
best
of
terms
.
"
Is
it
so
bad
as
that
?
"
said
he
,
and
dismounting
he
gently
felt
the
strained
leg
.
Then
he
took
the
bridle
in
his
hand
and
walked
forward
,
whistling
as
he
walked
.
Yet
the
place
and
the
hour
were
most
unlikely
to
give
him
succour
.
It
was
early
morning
,
and
he
walked
across
an
empty
basin
of
the
hills
.
The
sun
was
not
visible
,
though
the
upper
air
was
golden
and
the
green
peaks
of
the
hills
rosy
.
The
basin
itself
was
filled
with
a
broad
uncoloured
light
,
and
lay
naked
to
it
and
extraordinarily
still
.
There
were
as
yet
no
shadows
;
the
road
rose
and
dipped
across
low
ridges
of
turf
,
a
ribbon
of
dead
and
unillumined
white
;
and
the
grass
at
any
distance
from
the
road
had
the
darkness
of
peat
.
He
led
his
horse
forward
for
perhaps
a
mile
,
and
then
turning
a
corner
by
a
knot
of
trees
came
unexpectedly
upon
a
wayside
inn
.
In
front
of
the
inn
stood
a
travelling
carriage
with
its
team
of
horses
.
The
backs
of
the
horses
smoked
,
and
the
candles
of
the
lamps
were
still
burning
in
the
broad
daylight
.
Mr.
Wogan
quickened
his
pace
.
He
would
beg
a
seat
on
the
box
to
the
next
posting
stage
.
Fortune
had
served
him
.
As
he
came
near
he
heard
from
the
interior
of
the
inn
a
woman
's
voice
,
not
unmusical
so
much
as
shrill
with
impatience
,
which
perpetually
ordered
and
protested
.
As
he
came
nearer
he
heard
a
man
's
voice
obsequiously
answering
the
protests
,
and
as
the
sound
of
his
footsteps
rang
in
front
of
the
inn
both
voices
immediately
stopped
.
The
door
was
flung
hastily
open
,
and
the
landlord
and
the
lady
ran
out
onto
the
road
.
"
Sir
,
"
said
the
lady
in
Italian
,
"
I
need
a
postillion
.
"
To
Wogan
's
thinking
she
needed
much
more
than
a
postillion
.
She
needed
certainly
a
retinue
of
servants
.
He
was
not
quite
sure
that
she
did
not
need
a
nurse
,
for
she
was
a
creature
of
an
exquisite
fragility
,
with
the
pouting
face
of
a
child
,
and
the
childishness
was
exaggerated
by
a
great
muslin
bow
she
wore
at
her
throat
.
Her
pale
hair
,
where
it
showed
beneath
her
hood
,
was
fine
as
silk
and
as
glossy
;
her
eyes
had
the
colour
of
an
Italian
sky
at
noon
,
and
her
cheeks
the
delicate
tinge
of
a
carnation
.
The
many
laces
and
ribbons
,
knotted
about
her
dress
in
a
manner
most
mysterious
to
Wogan
,
added
to
her
gossamer
appearance
;
and
,
in
a
word
,
she
seemed
to
him
something
too
flowerlike
for
the
world
's
rough
usage
.
"
I
must
have
a
postillion
,
"
she
continued
.
"
Presently
,
madam
,
"
said
the
landlord
,
smiling
with
all
a
Tuscan
peasant
's
desire
to
please
.
"
In
a
minute
.
In
less
than
a
minute
.
"
He
looked
complacently
about
him
as
though
at
any
moment
now
a
crop
of
postillions
might
be
expected
to
flower
by
the
roadside
.
The
lady
turned
from
him
with
a
stamp
of
the
foot
and
saw
that
Wogan
was
curiously
regarding
her
carriage
.
A
boy
stood
at
the
horses
'
heads
,
but
his
dress
and
sleepy
face
showed
that
he
had
not
been
half
an
hour
out
of
bed
,
and
there
was
no
one
else
.
Wogan
was
wondering
how
in
the
world
she
had
travelled
as
far
as
this
inn
.
The
lady
explained
.
"
The
postillion
who
drove
me
from
Florence
was
drunk
—
oh
,
but
drunk
!
He
rolled
off
his
horse
just
here
,
opposite
the
door
.
See
,
I
beat
him
,
"
and
she
raised
the
beribboned
handle
of
a
toy-like
cane
.
"
But
it
was
no
use
.
I
broke
my
cane
over
his
back
,
but
he
would
not
get
up
.
He
crawled
into
the
passage
where
he
lies
.
"
Wogan
had
some
ado
not
to
smile
.
Neither
the
cane
nor
the
hand
which
wielded
it
would
be
likely
to
interfere
even
with
a
sober
man
's
slumbers
.
"
And
I
must
reach
Bologna
to-day
,
"
she
cried
in
an
extreme
agitation
.
"
It
is
of
the
last
importance
.
"
"
Fortune
is
kind
to
us
both
,
madam
,
"
said
Wogan
,
with
a
bow
.
"
My
horse
is
lamed
,
as
you
see
.
I
will
be
your
charioteer
,
for
I
too
am
in
a
desperate
hurry
to
reach
Bologna
.
"
Immediately
the
lady
drew
back
.
"
Oh
!
"
she
said
with
a
start
,
looking
at
Wogan
.
Wogan
looked
at
her
.
"
Ah
!
"
said
he
,
thoughtfully
.
They
eyed
each
other
for
a
moment
,
each
silently
speculating
what
the
other
was
doing
alone
at
this
hour
and
in
such
a
haste
to
reach
Bologna
.
"
You
are
English
?
"
she
said
with
a
great
deal
of
unconcern
,
and
she
asked
in
English
.
That
she
was
English
,
Wogan
already
knew
from
her
accent
.
His
Italian
,
however
,
was
more
than
passable
,
and
he
was
a
wary
man
by
nature
as
well
as
by
some
ten
years
'
training
in
a
service
where
wariness
was
the
first
need
,
though
it
was
seldom
acquired
.
He
could
have
answered
"
No
"
quite
truthfully
,
being
Irish
.
He
preferred
to
answer
her
in
Italian
as
though
he
had
not
understood
.
"
I
beg
your
pardon
.
Yes
,
I
will
drive
you
to
Bologna
if
the
landlord
will
swear
to
look
after
my
horse
.
"
And
he
was
very
precise
in
his
directions
.
The
landlord
swore
very
readily
.
His
anxiety
to
be
rid
of
his
vociferous
guest
and
to
get
back
to
bed
was
extreme
.
Wogan
climbed
into
the
postillion
's
saddle
,
describing
the
while
such
remedies
as
he
desired
to
be
applied
to
the
sprained
leg
.
"
The
horse
is
a
favourite
?
"
asked
the
lady
.
"
Madam
,
"
said
Wogan
,
with
a
laugh
,
"
I
would
not
lose
that
horse
for
all
the
world
,
for
the
woman
I
shall
marry
will
ride
on
it
into
my
city
of
dreams
.
"
The
lady
stared
,
as
she
well
might
.
She
hesitated
with
her
foot
upon
the
step
.
"
Is
he
sober
?
"
she
asked
of
the
landlord
.
"
Madam
,
"
said
the
landlord
,
unabashed
,
"
in
this
district
he
is
nicknamed
the
water
drinker
.
"
"
You
know
him
,
then
?
He
is
Italian
?
"
"
He
is
more
.
He
is
of
Tuscany
.
"
The
landlord
had
never
seen
Wogan
in
his
life
before
,
but
the
lady
seemed
to
wish
some
assurance
on
the
point
,
so
he
gave
it
.
He
shut
the
carriage
door
,
and
Wogan
cracked
his
whip
.
The
postillion
's
desires
were
of
a
piece
with
the
lady
's
.
They
raced
across
the
valley
,
and
as
they
climbed
the
slope
beyond
,
the
sun
came
over
the
crests
.
One
moment
the
dew
upon
the
grass
was
like
raindrops
,
the
next
it
shone
like
polished
jewels
.
The
postillion
shouted
a
welcome
to
the
sun
,
and
the
lady
proceeded
to
breakfast
in
her
carriage
.
Wogan
had
to
snatch
a
meal
as
best
he
could
while
the
horses
were
changed
at
the
posting
stage
.
The
lady
would
not
wait
,
and
Wogan
for
his
part
was
used
to
a
light
fare
.
He
drove
into
Bologna
that
afternoon
.
The
lady
put
her
head
from
the
window
and
called
out
the
name
of
a
street
.
Her
postillion
,
however
,
paid
no
heed
:
he
seemed
suddenly
to
have
grown
deaf
;
he
whipped
up
his
horses
,
shouted
encouragements
to
them
and
warnings
to
the
pedestrians
on
the
roads
.
The
carriage
rocked
round
corners
and
bounced
over
the
uneven
stones
.
Wogan
had
clean
forgotten
the
fragility
of
the
traveller
within
.
He
saw
men
going
busily
about
,
talking
in
groups
and
standing
alone
,
and
all
with
consternation
upon
their
faces
.
The
quiet
streets
were
alive
with
them
.
Something
had
happened
that
day
in
Bologna
,
—
some
catastrophe
.
Or
news
had
come
that
day
,
—
bad
news
.
Wogan
did
not
stop
to
inquire
.
He
drove
at
a
gallop
straight
to
a
long
white
house
which
fronted
the
street
.
The
green
latticed
shutters
were
closed
against
the
sun
,
but
there
were
servants
about
the
doorway
,
and
in
their
aspect
,
too
,
there
was
something
of
disorder
.
Wogan
called
to
one
of
them
,
jumped
down
from
his
saddle
,
and
ran
through
the
open
doorway
into
a
great
hall
with
frescoed
walls
all
ruined
by
neglect
.
At
the
back
of
the
hall
a
marble
staircase
,
guarded
by
a
pair
of
marble
lions
,
ran
up
to
a
landing
and
divided
.
Wogan
set
foot
on
the
staircase
and
heard
an
exclamation
of
surprise
.
He
looked
up
.
A
burly
,
good-humoured
man
in
the
gay
embroideries
of
a
courtier
was
descending
towards
him
.
"
You
?
"
cried
the
courtier
.
"
Already
?
"
and
then
laughed
.
He
was
the
only
man
whom
Wogan
had
seen
laugh
since
he
drove
into
Bologna
,
and
he
drew
a
great
breath
of
hope
.
"
Then
nothing
has
happened
,
Whittington
?
There
is
no
bad
news
?
"
"
There
is
news
so
bad
,
my
friend
,
that
you
might
have
jogged
here
on
a
mule
and
still
have
lost
no
time
.
Your
hurry
is
clean
wasted
,
"
answered
Whittington
.
Wogan
ran
past
him
up
the
stairs
,
and
so
left
the
hall
and
the
open
doorway
clear
.
Whittington
looked
now
straight
through
the
doorway
,
and
saw
the
carriage
and
the
lady
on
the
point
of
stepping
down
onto
the
kerb
.
His
face
assumed
a
look
of
extreme
surprise
.
Then
he
glanced
up
the
staircase
after
Wogan
and
laughed
as
though
the
conjunction
of
the
lady
and
Mr.
Wogan
was
a
rare
piece
of
amusement
.
Mr.
Wogan
did
not
hear
the
laugh
,
but
the
lady
did
.
She
raised
her
head
,
and
at
the
same
moment
the
courtier
came
across
the
hall
to
meet
her
.
As
soon
as
he
had
come
close
,
"
Harry
,
"
said
she
,
and
gave
him
her
hand
.
He
bent
over
it
and
kissed
it
,
and
there
was
more
than
courtesy
in
the
warmth
of
the
kiss
.
"
But
I
'm
glad
you
've
come
.
I
did
not
look
for
you
for
another
week
,
"
he
said
in
a
low
voice
.
He
did
not
,
however
,
offer
to
help
her
to
alight
.
"
This
is
your
lodging
?
"
she
asked
.
"
No
,
"
said
he
,
"
the
King
's
;
"
and
the
woman
shrank
suddenly
back
amongst
her
cushions
.
In
a
moment
,
however
,
her
face
was
again
at
the
door
.
"
Then
who
was
he
,
—
my
postillion
?
"
"
Your
postillion
?
"
asked
Whittington
,
glancing
at
the
servant
who
held
the
horses
.
"
Yes
,
the
tall
man
who
looked
as
if
he
should
have
been
a
scholar
and
had
twisted
himself
all
awry
into
a
soldier
.
You
must
have
passed
him
in
the
hall
.
"
Whittington
stared
at
her
.
Then
he
burst
again
into
a
laugh
.
"
Your
postillion
,
was
he
?
That
's
the
oddest
thing
,
"
and
he
lowered
his
voice
.
"
Your
postillion
was
Mr.
Charles
Wogan
,
who
comes
from
Rome
post-haste
with
the
Pope
's
procuration
for
the
marriage
.
You
have
helped
him
on
his
way
,
it
seems
.
Here
's
a
good
beginning
,
to
be
sure
.
"
The
lady
uttered
a
little
cry
of
anger
,
and
her
face
hardened
out
of
all
its
softness
.
She
clenched
her
fists
viciously
,
and
her
blue
eyes
grew
cold
and
dangerous
as
steel
.
At
this
moment
she
hardly
looked
the
delicate
flower
she
had
appeared
to
Wogan
's
fancy
.
"
But
you
need
not
blame
yourself
,
"
said
Whittington
,
and
he
lowered
his
head
to
a
level
with
hers
.
"
All
the
procurations
in
Christendom
will
not
marry
James
Stuart
to
Clementina
Sobieski
.
"
"
She
has
not
come
,
then
?
"
"
No
,
nor
will
she
come
.
There
is
news
to-day
.
Lean
back
from
the
window
,
and
I
will
tell
you
.
She
has
been
arrested
at
Innspruck
.
"
The
lady
could
not
repress
a
crow
of
delight
.
"
Hush
,
"
said
Whittington
.
Then
he
withdrew
his
head
and
resumed
in
his
ordinary
voice
,
"
I
have
hired
a
house
for
your
Ladyship
,
which
I
trust
will
be
found
convenient
.
My
servant
will
drive
you
thither
.
"
He
summoned
his
servant
from
the
group
of
footmen
about
the
entrance
,
gave
him
his
orders
,
bowed
to
the
ground
,
and
twisting
his
cane
sauntered
idly
down
the
street
.
CHAPTER
II
Wogan
mounted
the
stairs
,
not
daring
to
speculate
upon
the
nature
of
the
bad
news
.
But
his
face
was
pale
beneath
its
sunburn
,
and
his
hand
trembled
on
the
balustrade
;
for
he
knew
—
in
his
heart
he
knew
.
There
could
be
only
one
piece
of
news
which
would
make
his
haste
or
tardiness
matters
of
no
account
.
Both
branches
of
the
stairs
ran
up
to
a
common
landing
,
and
in
the
wall
facing
him
,
midway
between
the
two
stairheads
,
was
a
great
door
of
tulip
wood
.
An
usher
stood
by
the
door
,
and
at
Wogan
's
approach
opened
it
.
Wogan
,
however
,
signed
to
him
to
be
silent
.
He
wished
to
hear
,
not
to
speak
,
and
so
he
slipped
into
the
room
unannounced
.
The
door
was
closed
silently
behind
him
,
and
at
once
he
was
surprised
by
the
remarkable
silence
,
almost
a
cessation
of
life
it
seemed
,
in
a
room
which
was
quite
full
.
Wherever
the
broad
bars
of
sunshine
fell
,
as
they
slanted
dusty
with
motes
through
the
open
lattices
of
the
shutters
,
they
striped
a
woman
's
dress
or
a
man
's
velvet
coat
.
Yet
if
anyone
shuffled
a
foot
or
allowed
a
petticoat
to
rustle
,
that
person
glanced
on
each
side
guiltily
.
A
group
of
people
were
gathered
in
front
of
the
doorway
.
Their
backs
were
towards
Wogan
,
and
they
were
looking
towards
the
centre
of
the
room
.
Wogan
raised
himself
on
his
toes
and
looked
that
way
too
.
Having
looked
he
sank
down
again
,
aware
at
once
that
he
had
travelled
of
late
a
long
way
in
a
little
time
,
and
that
he
was
intolerably
tired
.
For
that
one
glance
was
enough
to
deprive
him
of
his
last
possibility
of
doubt
.
He
had
seen
the
Chevalier
de
St.
George
,
his
King
,
sitting
apart
in
a
little
open
space
,
and
over
against
him
a
short
squarish
man
,
dusty
as
Wogan
himself
,
who
stood
and
sullenly
waited
.
It
was
Sir
John
Hay
,
the
man
who
had
been
sent
to
fetch
the
Princess
Clementina
privately
to
Bologna
,
and
here
he
now
was
back
at
Bologna
and
alone
.
Wogan
had
counted
much
upon
this
marriage
,
more
indeed
than
any
of
his
comrades
.
It
was
to
be
the
first
step
of
the
pedestal
in
the
building
up
of
a
throne
.
It
was
to
establish
in
Europe
a
party
for
James
Stuart
as
strong
as
the
party
of
Hanover
.
But
so
much
was
known
to
everyone
in
that
room
;
to
Wogan
the
marriage
meant
more
.
For
even
while
he
found
himself
muttering
over
and
over
with
dry
lips
,
as
white
and
exhausted
he
leaned
against
the
door
,
Clementina
's
qualifications
,
—
"
Daughter
of
the
King
of
Poland
,
cousin
to
the
Emperor
and
to
the
King
of
Portugal
,
niece
to
the
Electors
of
Treves
,
Bavaria
,
and
Palatine
,
"
—
the
image
of
the
girl
herself
rose
up
before
his
eyes
and
struck
her
titles
from
his
thoughts
.
She
was
the
chosen
woman
,
chosen
by
him
out
of
all
Europe
—
and
lost
by
John
Hay
!
He
remembered
very
clearly
at
that
moment
his
first
meeting
with
her
.
He
had
travelled
from
court
to
court
in
search
of
the
fitting
wife
,
and
had
come
at
last
to
the
palace
at
Ohlau
in
Silesia
.
It
was
in
the
dusk
of
the
evening
,
and
as
he
was
ushered
into
the
great
stone
hall
,
hung
about
and
carpeted
with
barbaric
skins
,
he
had
seen
standing
by
the
blazing
wood
fire
in
the
huge
chimney
a
girl
in
a
riding
dress
.
She
raised
her
head
,
and
the
firelight
struck
upwards
on
her
face
,
adding
a
warmth
to
its
bright
colours
and
a
dancing
light
to
the
depths
of
her
dark
eyes
.
Her
hair
was
drawn
backwards
from
her
forehead
,
and
the
frank
,
sweet
face
revealed
to
him
from
the
broad
forehead
to
the
rounded
chin
told
him
that
here
was
one
who
joined
to
a
royal
dignity
the
simple
nature
of
a
peasant
girl
who
works
in
the
fields
and
knows
more
of
animals
than
of
mankind
.
Wogan
was
back
again
in
that
stone
hall
when
the
voice
of
the
Chevalier
with
its
strong
French
accent
broke
in
upon
his
vision
.
"
Well
,
we
will
hear
the
story
.
Well
,
you
left
Ohlau
with
the
Princess
and
her
mother
and
a
mile-long
train
of
servants
in
spite
of
my
commands
of
secrecy
.
"
There
was
more
anger
and
less
despondency
than
was
often
heard
in
his
voice
.
Wogan
raised
himself
again
on
tiptoes
and
noticed
that
the
Chevalier
's
face
was
flushed
and
his
eyes
bright
with
wrath
.
"
Sir
,
"
pleaded
Hay
,
"
the
Princess
's
mother
would
not
abate
a
man
.
"
"
Well
,
you
reached
Ratisbon
.
And
there
?
"
"
There
the
English
minister
came
forward
from
the
town
to
flout
us
with
an
address
of
welcome
in
which
he
used
not
our
incognitos
but
our
true
names
.
"
"
From
Ratisbon
then
no
doubt
you
hurried
?
Since
you
were
discovered
,
you
shed
your
retinue
and
hurried
?
"
"
Sir
,
we
hurried
—
to
Augsburg
,
"
faltered
Hay
.
He
stopped
,
and
then
in
a
burst
of
desperation
he
said
,
"
At
Augsburg
we
stayed
eight
days
.
"
"
Eight
days
?
"
There
was
a
stir
throughout
the
room
;
a
murmur
began
and
ceased
.
Wogan
wiped
his
forehead
and
crushed
his
handkerchief
into
a
hard
ball
in
his
palm
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
here
in
this
room
he
could
see
the
Princess
Clementina
's
face
flushed
with
the
humiliation
of
that
loitering
.
"
And
why
eight
days
in
Augsburg
?
"
"
The
Princess
's
mother
would
have
her
jewels
reset
.
Augsburg
is
famous
for
its
jewellers
,
"
stammered
Hay
.
The
murmur
rose
again
;
it
became
almost
a
cry
of
stupefaction
.
The
Chevalier
sprang
from
his
chair
.
"
Her
jewels
reset
!
"
he
said
.
He
repeated
the
words
in
bewilderment
.
"
Her
jewels
reset
!
"
Then
he
dropped
again
into
his
seat
.
"
I
lose
a
wife
,
gentlemen
,
and
very
likely
a
kingdom
too
,
so
that
a
lady
may
have
her
jewels
reset
at
Augsburg
,
where
,
to
be
sure
,
there
are
famous
jewellers
.
"
His
glance
,
wandering
in
a
dazed
way
about
the
room
,
settled
again
on
Hay
.
He
stamped
his
foot
on
the
ground
in
a
feverish
irritation
.
"
And
those
eight
days
gave
just
the
time
for
a
courier
from
the
Emperor
at
Vienna
to
pass
you
on
the
road
and
not
press
his
horse
.
One
should
be
glad
of
that
.
It
would
have
been
a
pity
had
the
courier
killed
his
horse
.
Oh
,
I
can
fashion
the
rest
of
the
story
for
myself
.
You
trailed
on
to
Innspruck
,
where
the
Governor
marched
out
with
a
troop
and
herded
you
in
.
They
let
you
go
,
however
.
No
doubt
they
bade
you
hurry
back
to
me
.
"
"
Sir
,
I
did
hurry
,
"
said
Hay
,
who
was
now
in
a
pitiable
confusion
.
"
I
travelled
hither
without
rest
.
"
The
anger
waned
in
the
Chevalier
's
eyes
as
he
heard
the
plea
,
and
a
great
dejection
crept
over
his
face
.
"
Yes
,
you
would
do
that
,
"
said
he
.
"
That
would
be
the
time
for
you
to
hurry
with
a
pigeon
's
swiftness
so
that
your
King
might
taste
his
bitter
news
not
a
minute
later
than
need
be
.
And
what
said
she
upon
her
arrest
?
"
"
The
Princess
's
mother
?
"
asked
Hay
,
barely
aware
of
what
he
said
.
"
No.
Her
Highness
,
the
Princess
Clementina
.
What
said
she
?
"
"
Sir
,
she
covered
her
face
with
her
hands
for
perhaps
the
space
of
a
minute
.
Then
she
leaned
forward
to
the
Governor
,
who
stood
by
her
carriage
,
and
cried
,
'
Shut
four
walls
about
me
quick
!
I
could
sink
into
the
earth
for
shame
.
'
"
Wogan
in
those
words
heard
her
voice
as
clearly
as
he
saw
her
face
and
the
dry
lips
between
which
the
voice
passed
.
He
had
it
in
his
heart
to
cry
aloud
,
to
send
the
words
ringing
through
that
hushed
room
,
"
She
would
have
tramped
here
barefoot
had
she
had
one
guide
with
a
spirit
to
match
hers
.
"
For
a
moment
he
almost
fancied
that
he
had
spoken
them
,
and
that
he
heard
the
echo
of
his
voice
vibrating
down
to
silence
.
But
he
had
not
,
and
as
he
realised
that
he
had
not
,
a
new
thought
occurred
to
him
.
No
one
had
remarked
his
entrance
into
the
room
.
The
group
in
front
still
stood
with
their
backs
towards
him
.
Since
his
entrance
no
one
had
remarked
his
presence
.
At
once
he
turned
and
opened
the
door
so
gently
that
there
was
not
so
much
as
a
click
of
the
latch
.
He
opened
it
just
wide
enough
for
himself
to
slip
through
,
and
he
closed
it
behind
him
with
the
same
caution
.
On
the
landing
there
was
only
the
usher
.
Wogan
looked
over
the
balustrade
;
there
was
no
one
in
the
hall
below
.
"
You
can
keep
a
silent
tongue
,
"
he
said
to
the
usher
.
"
There
's
profit
in
it
;
"
and
Wogan
put
his
hand
into
his
pocket
.
"
You
have
not
seen
me
if
any
ask
.
"
"
Sir
,
"
said
the
man
,
"
any
bright
object
disturbs
my
vision
.
"
"
You
can
see
a
crown
,
though
,
"
said
Wogan
.
"
Through
a
breeches
pocket
.
But
if
I
held
it
in
my
hand
—
"
"
It
would
dazzle
you
.
"
"
So
much
that
I
should
be
blind
to
the
giver
.
"
The
crown
was
offered
and
taken
.
Wogan
went
quietly
down
the
stairs
into
the
hall
.
There
were
a
few
lackeys
at
the
door
,
but
they
would
not
concern
themselves
at
all
because
Mr.
Wogan
had
returned
to
Bologna
.
He
looked
carefully
out
into
the
street
,
chose
a
moment
when
it
was
empty
,
and
hurried
across
it
.
He
dived
into
the
first
dark
alley
that
he
came
to
,
and
following
the
wynds
and
byways
of
the
town
made
his
way
quickly
to
his
lodging
.
He
had
the
key
to
his
door
in
his
pocket
,
and
he
now
kept
it
ready
in
his
hand
.
From
the
shelter
of
a
corner
he
watched
again
till
the
road
was
clear
;
he
even
examined
the
windows
of
the
neighbouring
houses
lest
somewhere
a
pair
of
eyes
might
happen
to
be
alert
.
Then
he
made
a
run
for
his
door
,
opened
it
without
noise
,
and
crept
secretly
as
a
thief
up
the
stairs
to
his
rooms
,
where
he
had
the
good
fortune
to
find
his
servant
.
Wogan
had
no
need
to
sign
to
him
to
be
silent
.
The
man
was
a
veteran
corporal
of
French
Guards
who
after
many
seasons
of
campaigning
in
Spain
and
the
Low
Countries
had
now
for
five
years
served
Mr.
Wogan
.
He
looked
at
his
master
and
without
a
word
went
off
to
make
his
bed
.
Wogan
sat
down
and
went
carefully
over
in
his
mind
every
minute
of
the
time
since
he
had
entered
Bologna
.
No
one
had
noticed
him
when
he
rode
in
as
the
lady
's
postillion
,
—
no
one
.
He
was
sure
of
that
.
The
lady
herself
did
not
know
him
from
Adam
,
and
fancied
him
an
Italian
into
the
bargain
—
of
that
,
too
,
he
had
no
doubt
.
The
handful
of
lackeys
at
the
door
of
the
King
's
house
need
not
be
taken
into
account
.
They
might
gossip
among
themselves
,
but
Wogan
's
appearances
and
disappearances
were
so
ordinary
a
matter
,
even
that
was
unlikely
.
The
usher
's
silence
he
had
already
secured
.
There
was
only
one
acquaintance
who
had
met
and
spoken
with
him
,
and
that
by
the
best
of
good
fortune
was
Harry
Whittington
,
—
the
idler
who
took
his
banishment
and
his
King
's
misfortunes
with
an
equally
light
heart
,
and
gave
never
a
thought
at
all
to
anything
weightier
than
a
gamecock
.
Wogan
's
spirits
revived
.
He
had
not
yet
come
to
the
end
of
his
luck
.
He
sat
down
and
wrote
a
short
letter
and
sealed
it
up
.
"
Marnier
,
"
he
called
out
in
a
low
voice
,
and
his
servant
came
from
the
adjoining
room
,
"
take
this
to
Mr.
Edgar
,
the
King
's
secretary
,
as
soon
as
it
grows
dusk
.
Have
a
care
that
no
one
sees
you
deliver
it
.
Lock
the
parlour
door
when
you
go
,
and
take
the
key
.
I
am
not
yet
back
from
Rome
.
"
With
that
Wogan
remembered
that
he
had
not
slept
for
forty-eight
hours
.
Within
two
minutes
he
was
between
the
sheets
;
within
five
he
was
asleep
.
CHAPTER
III
Wogan
waked
up
in
the
dark
and
was
seized
with
a
fear
that
he
had
slept
too
long
.
He
jumped
out
of
bed
and
pushed
open
the
door
of
his
parlour
.
There
was
a
lighted
lamp
in
the
room
,
and
Marnier
was
quietly
laying
his
master
's
supper
.
"
At
what
hour
?
"
asked
Wogan
.
"
Ten
o'clock
,
monsieur
,
at
the
little
postern
in
the
garden
wall
.
"
"
And
the
time
now
?
"
"
Nine
.
"
Wogan
dressed
with
some
ceremony
,
supped
,
and
at
eight
minutes
to
ten
slipped
down
the
stairs
and
out
of
doors
.
He
had
crushed
his
hat
down
upon
his
forehead
and
he
carried
his
handkerchief
at
his
face
.
But
the
streets
were
dark
and
few
people
were
abroad
.
At
a
little
distance
to
his
left
he
saw
above
the
housetops
a
glow
of
light
in
the
air
which
marked
the
Opera-House
.
Wogan
avoided
it
;
he
kept
again
to
the
alleys
and
emerged
before
the
Chevalier
's
lodging
.
This
he
passed
,
but
a
hundred
yards
farther
on
he
turned
down
a
side
street
and
doubled
back
upon
his
steps
along
a
little
byway
between
small
houses
.
The
line
of
houses
,
however
,
at
one
point
was
broken
by
a
garden
wall
.
Under
this
wall
Wogan
waited
until
a
clock
struck
ten
,
and
while
the
clock
was
still
striking
he
heard
on
the
other
side
of
the
wall
the
brushing
of
footsteps
amongst
leaves
and
grass
.
Wogan
tapped
gently
on
a
little
door
in
the
wall
.
It
was
opened
no
less
gently
,
and
Edgar
the
secretary
admitted
him
,
led
him
across
the
garden
and
up
a
narrow
flight
of
stairs
into
a
small
lighted
cabinet
.
Two
men
were
waiting
in
that
room
.
One
of
them
wore
the
scarlet
robe
,
an
old
man
with
white
hair
and
a
broad
bucolic
face
,
whom
Wogan
knew
for
the
Pope
's
Legate
,
Cardinal
Origo
.
The
slender
figure
of
the
other
,
clad
all
in
black
but
for
the
blue
ribbon
of
the
Garter
across
his
breast
,
brought
Wogan
to
his
knee
.
Wogan
held
out
the
Pope
's
procuration
to
the
Chevalier
,
who
took
it
and
devoutly
kissed
the
signature
.
Then
he
gave
his
hand
to
Wogan
with
a
smile
of
friendliness
.
"
You
have
outsped
your
time
by
two
days
,
Mr.
Wogan
.
That
is
unwise
,
since
it
may
lead
us
to
expect
again
the
impossible
of
you
.
But
here
,
alas
,
your
speed
for
once
brings
us
no
profit
.
You
have
heard
,
no
doubt
.
Her
Highness
the
Princess
Clementina
is
held
at
Innspruck
in
prison
.
"
Wogan
rose
to
his
feet
.
"
Prisons
,
sir
,
"
he
said
quietly
,
"
have
been
broken
before
to-day
.
I
myself
was
once
put
to
that
necessity
.
"
The
words
took
the
Chevalier
completely
by
surprise
.
He
leaned
back
in
his
chair
and
stared
at
Wogan
.
"
An
army
could
not
rescue
her
,
"
he
said
.
"
No
,
but
one
man
might
.
"
"
You
?
"
he
exclaimed
.
He
pressed
down
the
shade
of
the
lamp
to
throw
the
light
fully
upon
Wogan
's
face
.
"
It
is
impossible
!
"
"
Then
I
beg
your
Majesty
to
expect
the
impossible
again
.
"
The
Chevalier
drew
his
hand
across
his
eyes
and
stared
afresh
at
Wogan
.
The
audacity
of
the
exploit
and
the
imperturbable
manner
of
its
proposal
caught
his
breath
away
.
He
rose
from
his
chair
and
took
a
turn
or
two
across
the
room
.
Wogan
watched
his
every
gesture
.
It
would
be
difficult
he
knew
to
wring
the
permission
he
needed
from
his
dejected
master
,
and
his
unruffled
demeanour
was
a
calculated
means
of
persuasion
.
An
air
of
confidence
was
the
first
requisite
.
In
reality
,
however
,
Wogan
was
not
troubled
at
this
moment
by
any
thought
of
failure
.
It
was
not
that
he
had
any
plan
in
his
head
;
but
he
was
fired
with
a
conviction
that
somehow
this
chosen
woman
was
not
to
be
wasted
,
that
some
day
,
released
by
some
means
in
spite
of
all
the
pressure
English
Ministers
could
bring
upon
the
Emperor
,
she
would
come
riding
into
Bologna
.
The
Chevalier
paused
in
his
walk
and
looked
towards
the
Cardinal
.
"
What
does
your
Eminence
say
?
"
"
That
to
the
old
the
impulsiveness
of
youth
is
eternally
charming
,
"
said
the
Cardinal
,
with
a
foppish
delicacy
of
speaking
in
an
odd
contrast
to
his
person
.
Mr.
Wogan
understood
that
he
had
a
second
antagonist
.
"
I
am
not
a
youth
,
your
Eminence
,
"
he
exclaimed
with
all
the
indignation
of
twenty-seven
years
.
"
I
am
a
man
.
"
"
But
an
Irishman
,
and
that
spells
youth
.
You
write
poetry
too
,
I
believe
,
Mr.
Wogan
.
It
is
a
heady
practice
.
"
Wogan
made
no
answer
,
though
the
words
stung
.
An
argument
with
the
Cardinal
would
be
sure
to
ruin
his
chance
of
obtaining
the
Chevalier
's
consent
.
He
merely
bowed
to
the
Cardinal
and
waited
for
the
Chevalier
to
speak
.
"
Look
you
,
Mr.
Wogan
;
while
the
Emperor
's
at
war
with
Spain
,
while
England
's
fleet
could
strip
him
of
Sicily
,
he
's
England
's
henchman
.
He
dare
not
let
the
Princess
go
.
We
know
it
.
General
Heister
,
the
Governor
of
Innspruck
,
is
under
pain
of
death
to
hold
her
safe
.
"
"
But
,
sir
,
would
the
world
stop
if
General
Heister
died
?
"
"
A
German
scaffold
if
you
fail
.
"
"
In
the
matter
of
scaffolds
I
have
no
leaning
towards
any
one
nationality
.
"
The
Cardinal
smiled
.
He
liked
a
man
of
spirit
,
though
he
might
think
him
absurd
.
The
Chevalier
resumed
his
restless
pacing
to
and
fro
.
"
It
is
impossible
.
"
But
he
seemed
to
utter
the
phrase
with
less
decision
this
second
time
.
Wogan
pressed
his
advantage
at
the
expense
of
his
modesty
.
"
Sir
,
will
you
allow
me
to
tell
you
a
story
,
—
a
story
of
an
impossible
escape
from
Newgate
in
the
heart
of
London
by
a
man
in
fetters
?
There
were
nine
grenadiers
with
loaded
muskets
standing
over
him
.
There
were
two
courtyards
to
cross
,
two
walls
to
climb
,
and
beyond
the
walls
the
unfriendly
streets
.
The
man
hoodwinked
his
sentries
,
climbed
his
two
walls
,
crossed
the
unfriendly
streets
,
and
took
refuge
in
a
cellar
,
where
he
was
discovered
.
From
the
cellar
in
broad
daylight
he
fought
his
way
to
the
roofs
,
and
on
the
roofs
he
played
such
a
game
of
hide-and-seek
among
the
chimney-tops
—
"
Wogan
broke
off
from
his
story
with
a
clear
thrill
of
laughter
;
it
was
a
laugh
of
enjoyment
at
a
pleasing
recollection
.
Then
he
suddenly
flung
himself
down
on
his
knee
at
the
feet
of
his
sovereign
.
"
Give
me
leave
,
your
Majesty
,
"
he
cried
passionately
.
"
Let
me
go
upon
this
errand
.
If
I
fail
,
if
the
scaffold
's
dressed
for
me
,
why
where
's
the
harm
?
Your
Majesty
loses
one
servant
out
of
his
many
.
Whereas
,
if
I
win
—
"
and
he
drew
a
long
breath
.
"
Aye
,
and
I
shall
win
!
There
's
the
Princess
,
too
,
a
prisoner
.
Sir
,
she
has
ventured
much
.
I
beg
you
give
me
leave
.
"
The
Chevalier
laid
his
hand
gently
upon
Wogan
's
shoulder
,
but
he
did
not
assent
.
He
looked
again
doubtfully
to
the
Cardinal
,
who
said
with
his
pleasant
smile
,
"
I
will
wager
Mr.
Wogan
a
box
at
the
Opera
on
the
first
night
that
he
returns
,
that
he
will
return
empty-handed
.
"
Wogan
rose
to
his
feet
and
replied
good-humouredly
,
"
It
's
a
wager
I
take
the
more
readily
in
that
your
Eminence
cannot
win
,
though
you
may
lose
.
For
if
I
return
empty-handed
,
upon
my
honour
I
'll
not
return
at
all
.
"
The
Cardinal
condescended
to
laugh
.
Mr.
Wogan
laughed
too
.
He
had
good
reason
,
for
here
was
his
Eminence
in
a
kindly
temper
and
the
Chevalier
warming
out
of
his
melancholy
.
And
,
indeed
,
while
he
was
still
laughing
the
Chevalier
caught
him
by
the
arm
as
a
friend
might
do
,
and
in
an
outburst
of
confidence
,
very
rare
with
him
,
he
said
,
"
I
would
that
I
could
laugh
so
.
You
and
Whittington
,
I
do
envy
you
.
An
honest
laugh
,
there
's
the
purge
for
melancholy
.
But
I
cannot
compass
it
,
"
and
he
turned
away
.
"
Sure
,
sir
,
you
'll
put
us
all
to
shame
when
I
bring
her
Royal
Highness
out
of
Innspruck
.
"
"
Oh
,
that
!
"
said
the
Chevalier
,
as
though
for
the
moment
he
had
forgotten
.
"
It
is
impossible
,
"
and
the
phrase
was
spoken
now
in
an
accent
of
hesitation
.
Moreover
,
he
sat
down
at
a
table
,
and
drawing
a
sheet
of
paper
written
over
with
memoranda
,
he
began
to
read
aloud
with
a
glance
towards
Wogan
at
the
end
of
each
sentence
.
"
The
house
stands
in
the
faubourgs
of
Innspruck
.
There
is
an
avenue
of
trees
in
front
of
the
house
;
on
the
opposite
side
of
the
avenue
there
is
a
tavern
with
the
sign
of
'
The
White
Chamois
.
'
"
Wogan
committed
the
words
to
memory
.
"
The
Princess
and
her
mother
,
"
continued
the
Chevalier
,
"
are
imprisoned
in
the
east
side
of
the
house
.
"
"
And
how
guarded
,
sir
?
"
asked
Wogan
.
The
Chevalier
read
again
from
his
paper
.
"
A
sentry
at
each
door
,
a
third
beneath
the
prisoners
'
windows
.
They
keep
watch
night
and
day
.
Besides
,
twice
a
day
the
magistrate
visits
the
house
.
"
"
At
what
hours
?
"
"
At
ten
in
the
morning
.
The
same
hour
at
night
.
"
"
And
on
each
visit
the
magistrate
sees
the
Princess
?
"
"
Yes
,
though
she
lies
abed
.
"
Wogan
stroked
his
chin
.
The
Cardinal
regarded
him
quizzically
.
"
I
trust
,
Mr.
Wogan
,
that
we
shall
hear
Farini
.
There
is
talk
of
his
coming
to
Bologna
.
"
Wogan
did
not
answer
.
He
was
silent
;
he
saw
the
three
sentinels
standing
watchfully
about
the
house
;
he
heard
them
calling
"
All
's
well
"
each
to
the
other
.
Then
he
asked
,
"
Has
the
Princess
her
own
servants
to
attend
her
?
"
"
Only
M
.
Chateaudoux
,
her
chamberlain
.
"
"
Ah
!
"
Wogan
leaned
forward
with
a
question
on
his
tongue
he
hardly
dared
to
ask
.
So
much
hung
upon
the
answer
.
"
And
M
.
Chateaudoux
is
allowed
to
come
and
go
?
"
"
In
the
daylight
.
"
Wogan
turned
to
the
Cardinal
.
"
The
box
will
be
the
best
box
in
the
house
,
"
Wogan
suggested
.
"
Oh
,
sir
,
"
replied
the
Cardinal
,
"
on
the
first
tier
,
to
be
sure
.
"
Wogan
turned
back
to
the
Chevalier
.
"
All
that
I
need
now
is
a
letter
from
your
Majesty
to
the
King
of
Poland
and
a
few
rascally
guineas
.
I
can
leave
Bologna
before
a
soul
's
astir
in
the
morning
.
No
one
but
Whittington
saw
me
to-day
,
and
a
word
will
keep
him
silent
.
There
will
be
secrecy
—
"
but
the
Chevalier
suddenly
cut
him
short
.
"
No
,
"
said
he
,
bringing
the
palm
of
his
hand
down
upon
the
table
.
"
Here
's
a
blow
that
we
must
bend
to
!
It
's
a
dream
,
this
plan
of
yours
.
"
"
But
a
dream
I
'll
dream
so
hard
,
sir
,
that
I
'll
dream
it
true
,
"
cried
Wogan
,
in
despair
.
"
No
,
no
,
"
said
the
Chevalier
.
"
We
'll
talk
no
more
of
it
.
There
's
God
's
will
evident
in
this
arrest
,
and
we
must
bend
to
it
;
"
and
at
once
Wogan
remembered
his
one
crowning
argument
.
It
was
so
familiar
to
his
thoughts
,
it
had
lain
so
close
at
his
heart
,
that
he
had
left
it
unspoken
,
taking
it
as
it
were
for
granted
that
others
were
as
familiar
with
it
as
he
.
"
Sir
,
"
said
he
,
eagerly
,
"
I
have
never
told
you
,
but
the
Princess
Clementina
when
a
child
amongst
her
playmates
had
a
favourite
game
.
They
called
it
kings
and
queens
.
And
in
that
game
the
Princess
was
always
chosen
Queen
of
England
.
"
The
Chevalier
started
.
"
Is
that
so
?
"
and
he
gazed
into
Wogan
's
eyes
,
making
sure
that
he
spoke
the
truth
.
"
In
very
truth
it
is
,
"
and
the
two
men
stood
looking
each
at
the
other
and
quite
silent
.
It
was
the
truth
,
a
mere
coincidence
if
you
will
,
but
to
both
these
men
omens
and
auguries
were
the
gravest
matters
.
"
There
indeed
is
God
's
finger
pointing
,
"
cried
Wogan
.
"
Sir
,
give
me
leave
to
follow
it
.
"
The
Chevalier
still
stood
looking
at
him
in
silence
.
Then
he
said
suddenly
,
"
Go
,
then
,
and
God
speed
you
!
You
are
a
gallant
gentleman
.
"
He
sat
down
thereupon
and
wrote
a
letter
to
the
King
of
Poland
,
asking
him
to
entrust
the
rescue
of
his
daughter
into
Wogan
's
hands
.
This
letter
Wogan
took
and
money
for
his
journey
.
"
You
will
have
preparations
to
make
,
"
said
the
Chevalier
.
"
I
will
not
keep
you
.
You
have
horses
?
"
Mr.
Wogan
had
two
in
a
stable
at
Bologna
.
"
But
,
"
he
added
,
"
there
is
a
horse
I
left
this
morning
six
miles
this
side
of
Fiesole
,
a
black
horse
,
and
I
would
not
lose
it
.
"
"
Nor
shall
you
,
"
said
the
Chevalier
.
Wogan
crept
back
to
his
lodging
as
cautiously
as
he
had
left
it
.
There
was
no
light
in
any
window
but
in
his
own
,
where
his
servant
,
Marnier
,
awaited
him
.
Wogan
opened
the
door
softly
and
found
the
porter
asleep
in
his
chair
.
He
stole
upstairs
and
made
his
preparations
.
These
,
however
,
were
of
the
simplest
kind
,
and
consisted
of
half-a-dozen
orders
to
Marnier
and
the
getting
into
bed
.
In
the
morning
he
woke
before
daybreak
and
found
Marnier
already
up
.
They
went
silently
out
of
the
house
as
the
dawn
was
breaking
.
Marnier
had
the
key
to
the
stables
,
and
they
saddled
the
two
horses
and
rode
through
the
blind
and
silent
streets
with
their
faces
muffled
in
their
cloaks
.
They
met
no
one
,
however
,
until
they
were
come
to
the
outskirts
of
the
town
.
But
then
as
they
passed
the
mouth
of
an
alley
a
man
came
suddenly
out
and
as
suddenly
drew
back
.
The
morning
was
chill
,
and
the
man
was
closely
wrapped
.
Wogan
could
not
distinguish
his
face
or
person
,
and
looking
down
the
alley
he
saw
at
the
end
of
it
only
a
garden
wall
,
and
over
the
top
of
the
wall
a
thicket
of
trees
and
the
chimney-tops
of
a
low
house
embosomed
amongst
them
.
He
rode
on
,
secure
in
the
secrecy
of
his
desperate
adventure
.
But
that
same
morning
Mr.
Whittington
paid
a
visit
to
Wogan
's
lodging
and
asked
to
be
admitted
.
He
was
told
that
Mr.
Wogan
had
not
yet
returned
to
Bologna
.
"
So
,
indeed
,
I
thought
,
"
said
he
;
and
he
sauntered
carelessly
along
,
not
to
his
own
house
,
but
to
one
smaller
,
situated
at
the
bottom
of
a
cul-de-sac
and
secluded
amongst
trees
.
At
the
door
he
asked
whether
her
Ladyship
was
yet
visible
,
and
was
at
once
shown
into
a
room
with
long
windows
which
stood
open
to
the
garden
.
Her
Ladyship
lay
upon
a
sofa
sipping
her
coffee
and
teasing
a
spaniel
with
the
toe
of
her
slipper
.
"
You
are
early
,
"
she
said
with
some
surprise
.
"
And
yet
no
earlier
than
your
Ladyship
,
"
said
Whittington
.
"
I
have
to
make
my
obeisance
to
my
King
,
"
said
she
,
stifling
a
yawn
.
"
Could
one
,
I
ask
you
,
sleep
on
so
important
a
day
?
"
Mr.
Whittington
laughed
genially
.
Then
he
opened
the
door
and
glanced
along
the
passage
.
When
he
turned
back
into
the
room
her
Ladyship
had
kicked
the
spaniel
from
the
sofa
and
was
sitting
bolt
upright
with
all
her
languor
gone
.
"
Well
?
"
she
asked
quickly
.
Whittington
took
a
seat
on
the
sofa
by
her
side
.
"
Charles
Wogan
left
Bologna
at
daybreak
.
Moreover
,
I
have
had
a
message
from
the
Chevalier
bidding
me
not
to
mention
that
I
saw
him
in
Bologna
yesterday
.
One
could
hazard
a
guess
at
the
goal
of
so
secret
a
journey
.
"
"
Ohlau
!
"
exclaimed
the
lady
,
in
a
whisper
.
Then
she
nestled
back
upon
the
sofa
and
bit
the
fragment
of
lace
she
called
her
handkerchief
.
"
So
there
's
an
end
of
Mr.
Wogan
,
"
she
said
pleasantly
.
Whittington
made
no
answer
.
"
For
there
's
no
chance
that
he
'll
succeed
,
"
she
continued
with
a
touch
of
anxiety
in
her
voice
.
Whittington
neither
agreed
nor
contradicted
.
He
asked
a
question
instead
.
"
What
is
the
sharpest
spur
a
man
can
know
?
What
is
it
that
gives
a
man
audacity
to
attempt
and
wit
to
accomplish
the
impossible
?
"
The
lady
smiled
.
"
The
poets
tell
us
love
,
"
said
she
,
demurely
.
Whittington
nodded
his
head
.
"
Wogan
speaks
very
warmly
of
the
Princess
Clementina
.
"
Her
Ladyship
's
red
lips
lost
their
curve
.
Her
eyes
became
thoughtful
,
apprehensive
.
"
I
wonder
,
"
she
said
slowly
.
"
Yes
,
I
too
wonder
,
"
said
Whittington
.
Outside
the
branches
of
the
trees
rustled
in
the
wind
and
flung
shadows
,
swift
as
ripples
,
across
the
sunlit
grass
.
But
within
the
little
room
there
was
a
long
silence
.
CHAPTER
IV
M
.
Chateaudoux
,
the
chamberlain
,
was
a
little
portly
person
with
a
round
,
red
face
like
a
cherub
's
.
He
was
a
creature
of
the
house
,
one
that
walked
with
delicate
steps
,
a
conductor
of
ceremonies
,
an
expert
in
the
subtleties
of
etiquette
;
and
once
he
held
his
wand
of
office
in
his
hand
,
there
was
nowhere
to
be
found
a
being
so
precise
and
consequential
.
But
out
of
doors
he
had
the
timidity
of
a
cat
.
He
lived
,
however
,
by
rule
and
rote
,
and
since
it
had
always
been
his
habit
to
take
the
air
between
three
and
four
of
the
afternoon
,
he
was
to
be
seen
between
those
hours
at
Innspruck
on
any
fine
day
mincing
along
the
avenue
of
trees
before
the
villa
in
which
his
mistress
was
held
prisoner
.
On
one
afternoon
during
the
month
of
October
he
passed
a
hawker
,
who
,
tired
with
his
day
's
tramp
,
was
resting
on
a
bench
in
the
avenue
,
and
who
carried
upon
his
arm
a
half-empty
basket
of
cheap
wares
.
The
man
was
ragged
;
his
toes
were
thrusting
through
his
shoes
;
it
was
evident
that
he
wore
no
linen
,
and
a
week
's
growth
of
beard
dirtily
stubbled
his
chin
,
—
in
a
word
,
he
was
a
man
from
whom
M
.
Chateaudoux
's
prim
soul
positively
shrank
.
M
.
Chateaudoux
went
quickly
by
,
fearing
to
be
pestered
for
alms
.
The
hawker
,
however
,
remained
seated
upon
the
bench
,
drawing
idle
patterns
upon
the
gravel
with
a
hazel
stick
stolen
from
a
hedgerow
.
The
next
afternoon
the
hawker
was
in
the
avenue
again
,
only
this
time
on
a
bench
at
the
opposite
end
;
and
again
he
paid
no
heed
to
M
.
Chateaudoux
,
but
sat
moodily
scraping
the
gravel
with
his
stick
.
On
the
third
afternoon
M
.
Chateaudoux
found
the
hawker
seated
in
the
middle
of
the
avenue
and
over
against
the
door
of
the
guarded
villa
.
M
.
Chateaudoux
,
when
his
timidity
slept
,
was
capable
of
good
nature
.
There
was
a
soldier
with
a
loaded
musket
in
full
view
.
The
hawker
,
besides
,
had
not
pestered
him
.
He
determined
to
buy
some
small
thing
,
—
a
mirror
,
perhaps
,
which
was
always
useful
,
—
and
he
approached
the
hawker
,
who
for
his
part
wearily
flicked
the
gravel
with
his
stick
and
drew
a
curve
here
and
a
line
there
until
,
as
M
.
Chateaudoux
stopped
before
the
bench
,
there
lay
sketched
at
his
feet
the
rude
semblance
of
a
crown
.
The
stick
swept
over
it
the
next
instant
and
left
the
gravel
smooth
.
But
M
.
Chateaudoux
had
seen
,
and
his
heart
fluttered
and
sank
.
For
here
were
plots
,
possibly
dangers
,
most
certainly
trepidations
.
He
turned
his
back
as
though
he
had
seen
nothing
,
and
constraining
himself
to
a
slow
pace
walked
towards
the
door
of
the
villa
.
But
the
hawker
was
now
at
his
side
,
whining
in
execrable
German
and
a
strong
French
accent
the
remarkable
value
of
his
wares
.
There
were
samplers
most
exquisitely
worked
,
jewels
for
the
most
noble
gentleman
's
honoured
sweetheart
,
and
purses
which
emperors
would
give
a
deal
to
buy
.
Chateaudoux
was
urged
to
take
notice
that
emperors
would
give
sums
to
lay
a
hand
on
the
hawker
's
purses
.
M
.
Chateaudoux
pretended
not
to
hear
.
"
I
want
nothing
,
"
he
said
,
"
nothing
in
the
world
;
"
and
he
repeated
the
statement
in
order
to
drown
the
other
's
voice
.
"
A
purse
,
good
gentleman
,
"
persisted
the
hawker
,
and
he
dangled
one
before
Chateaudoux
's
eyes
.
Not
for
anything
would
Chateaudoux
take
that
purse
.
"
Go
away
,
"
he
cried
;
"
I
have
a
sufficiency
of
purses
,
and
I
will
not
be
plagued
by
you
.
"
They
were
now
at
the
steps
of
the
villa
,
and
the
sentry
,
lifting
the
butt
of
his
musket
,
roughly
thrust
the
hawker
back
.
"
What
have
you
there
?
Bring
your
basket
here
,
"
said
he
;
and
to
Chateaudoux
's
consternation
the
hawker
immediately
offered
the
purse
to
the
sentinel
.
"
It
is
only
the
poor
who
have
kind
hearts
,
"
he
said
;
"
here
's
the
proper
purse
for
a
soldier
.
It
is
so
hard
to
get
the
money
out
that
a
man
is
saved
an
ocean
of
drink
.
"
The
hawker
's
readiness
destroyed
any
suspicions
the
sentinel
may
have
felt
.
"
Go
away
,
"
he
said
,
"
quick
!
"
"
You
will
buy
the
purse
?
"
The
sentinel
raised
his
musket
again
.
"
Then
the
kind
gentleman
will
,
"
said
the
hawker
,
and
he
thrust
the
purse
into
M
.
Chateaudoux
's
reluctant
hand
.
Chateaudoux
could
feel
within
the
purse
a
folded
paper
.
He
was
committed
now
without
a
doubt
,
and
in
an
extreme
alarm
he
flung
a
coin
into
the
roadway
and
got
him
into
the
house
.
The
sentinel
carelessly
dropped
the
butt
of
his
musket
on
the
coin
.
"
Go
,
"
said
he
,
and
with
a
sudden
kick
he
lifted
the
hawker
half
across
the
road
.
The
hawker
happened
to
be
Charles
Wogan
,
who
took
a
little
matter
like
that
with
the
necessary
philosophy
.
He
picked
himself
up
and
limped
off
.
Now
the
next
day
a
remarkable
thing
happened
.
M
.
Chateaudoux
swerved
from
the
regularity
of
his
habits
.
He
walked
along
the
avenue
,
it
is
true
;
but
at
the
end
of
it
he
tripped
down
a
street
and
turned
out
of
that
into
another
which
brought
him
to
the
arcades
.
He
did
not
appear
to
enjoy
his
walk
;
indeed
,
any
hurrying
footsteps
behind
startled
him
exceedingly
and
made
his
face
turn
white
and
red
,
and
his
body
hot
and
cold
.
However
,
he
proceeded
along
the
arcades
to
the
cathedral
,
which
he
entered
;
and
just
as
the
clock
struck
half-past
three
,
in
a
dark
corner
opposite
to
the
third
of
the
great
statues
he
drew
his
handkerchief
from
his
pocket
.
The
handkerchief
flipped
out
a
letter
which
fell
onto
the
ground
.
In
the
gloom
it
was
barely
visible
;
and
M
.
Chateaudoux
walked
on
,
apparently
unconscious
of
his
loss
.
But
a
comfortable
citizen
in
a
snuff-coloured
suit
picked
it
up
and
walked
straight
out
of
the
cathedral
to
the
Golden
Fleece
Inn
in
the
Hochstrasse
,
where
he
lodged
.
He
went
up
into
his
room
and
examined
the
letter
.
It
was
superscribed
"
To
M
.
Chateaudoux
,
"
and
the
seal
was
broken
.
Nevertheless
,
the
finder
did
not
scruple
to
read
it
.
It
was
a
love-letter
to
the
little
gentleman
from
one
Friederika
.
"
I
am
heart-broken
,
"
wrote
Friederika
,
"
but
my
fidelity
to
my
Chateaudoux
has
not
faltered
,
nor
will
not
,
whatever
I
may
be
called
upon
to
endure
.
I
cannot
,
however
,
be
so
undutiful
as
to
accept
my
Chateaudoux
's
addresses
without
my
father
's
consent
;
and
my
mother
,
who
is
of
the
same
mind
with
me
,
insists
that
even
with
that
consent
a
runaway
marriage
is
not
to
be
thought
of
unless
my
Chateaudoux
can
provide
me
with
a
suitable
woman
for
an
attendant
.
"
These
conditions
fulfilled
,
Friederika
was
willing
to
follow
her
Chateaudoux
to
the
world
's
end
.
The
comfortable
citizen
in
the
snuff-coloured
suit
sat
for
some
while
over
that
letter
with
a
strange
light
upon
his
face
and
a
smile
of
great
happiness
.
The
comfortable
citizen
was
Charles
Wogan
,
and
he
could
dissociate
the
obstructions
of
the
mother
from
the
willingness
of
the
girl
.
The
October
evening
wove
its
veils
from
the
mountain
crests
across
the
valleys
;
the
sun
and
the
daylight
had
gone
from
the
room
before
Wogan
tore
that
letter
up
and
wrote
another
to
the
Chevalier
at
Bologna
,
telling
him
that
the
Princess
Clementina
would
venture
herself
gladly
if
he
could
secure
the
consent
of
Prince
Sobieski
,
her
father
.
And
the
next
morning
he
drove
out
in
a
carriage
towards
Ohlau
in
Silesia
.
It
was
as
the
Chevalier
Warner
that
he
had
first
journeyed
thither
to
solicit
for
his
King
the
Princess
Clementina
's
hand
.
Consequently
he
used
the
name
again
.
Winter
came
upon
him
as
he
went
;
the
snow
gathered
thick
upon
the
hills
and
crept
down
into
the
valleys
,
encumbering
his
path
.
The
cold
nipped
his
bones
;
he
drove
beneath
great
clouds
and
through
a
stinging
air
,
but
of
these
discomforts
he
was
not
sensible
.
For
the
mission
he
was
set
upon
filled
his
thoughts
and
ran
like
a
fever
in
his
blood
.
He
lay
awake
at
nights
inventing
schemes
of
evasion
,
and
each
morning
showed
a
flaw
,
and
the
schemes
crumbled
.
Not
that
his
faith
faltered
.
At
some
one
moment
he
felt
sure
the
perfect
plan
,
swift
and
secret
,
would
be
revealed
to
him
,
and
he
lived
to
seize
the
moment
.
The
people
with
whom
he
spoke
became
as
shadows
;
the
inns
where
he
rested
were
confused
into
a
common
semblance
.
He
was
like
a
man
in
a
trance
,
seeing
ever
before
his
eyes
the
guarded
villa
at
Innspruck
,
and
behind
the
walls
,
patient
and
watchful
,
the
face
of
the
chosen
woman
;
so
that
it
was
almost
with
surprise
that
he
looked
down
one
afternoon
from
the
brim
of
a
pass
in
the
hills
and
saw
beneath
him
,
hooded
with
snow
,
the
roofs
and
towers
of
Ohlau
.
At
Ohlau
Wogan
came
to
the
end
of
his
luck
.
From
the
moment
when
he
presented
his
letter
he
was
aware
of
it
.
The
Prince
was
broken
by
his
humiliation
and
the
sufferings
of
his
wife
and
daughter
.
He
was
even
inclined
to
resent
them
at
the
expense
of
the
Chevalier
,
for
in
his
welcome
to
Wogan
there
was
a
measure
of
embarrassment
.
His
shoulders
,
which
had
before
been
erect
,
now
stooped
,
his
eyes
were
veiled
,
the
fire
had
burnt
out
in
him
;
he
was
an
old
man
visibly
ageing
to
his
grave
.
He
read
the
letter
and
re-read
it
.
"
No
,
"
said
he
,
impatiently
;
"
I
must
now
think
of
my
daughter
.
Her
dignity
and
her
birth
forbid
that
she
should
run
like
a
criminal
in
fear
of
capture
,
and
at
the
peril
very
likely
of
her
life
,
to
a
king
who
,
after
all
,
is
as
yet
without
a
crown
.
"
And
then
seeing
Wogan
flush
at
the
words
,
he
softened
them
.
"
I
frankly
say
to
you
,
