CHAPTER II
Wogan mounted the stairs, not daring to speculate upon the nature of thebad news. But his face was pale beneath its sunburn, and his handtrembled on the balustrade; for he knew--in his heart he knew. Therecould be only one piece of news which would make his haste or tardinessmatters of no account.
Both branches of the stairs ran up to a common landing, and in the wallfacing him, midway between the two stairheads, was a great door of tulipwood. 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 tospeak, and so he slipped into the room unannounced. The door was closedsilently behind him, and at once he was surprised by the remarkablesilence, almost a cessation of life it seemed, in a room which was quitefull. Wherever the broad bars of sunshine fell, as they slanted dustywith motes through the open lattices of the shutters, they striped awoman's dress or a man's velvet coat. Yet if anyone shuffled a foot orallowed a petticoat to rustle, that person glanced on each sideguiltily. A group of people were gathered in front of the doorway. Theirbacks were towards Wogan, and they were looking towards the centre ofthe 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 oflate a long way in a little time, and that he was intolerably tired. Forthat one glance was enough to deprive him of his last possibility ofdoubt. He had seen the Chevalier de St. George, his King, sitting apartin a little open space, and over against him a short squarish man, dustyas Wogan himself, who stood and sullenly waited. It was Sir John Hay,the man who had been sent to fetch the Princess Clementina privately toBologna, and here he now was back at Bologna and alone.
Wogan had counted much upon this marriage, more indeed than any of hiscomrades. It was to be the first step of the pedestal in the building upof a throne. It was to establish in Europe a party for James Stuart asstrong as the party of Hanover. But so much was known to everyone inthat room; to Wogan the marriage meant more. For even while he foundhimself muttering over and over with dry lips, as white and exhausted heleaned against the door, Clementina's qualifications,--"Daughter of theKing of Poland, cousin to the Emperor and to the King of Portugal, nieceto the Electors of Treves, Bavaria, and Palatine,"--the image of thegirl herself rose up before his eyes and struck her titles from histhoughts. She was the chosen woman, chosen by him out of all Europe--andlost 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, andhad come at last to the palace at Ohlau in Silesia. It was in the duskof the evening, and as he was ushered into the great stone hall, hungabout and carpeted with barbaric skins, he had seen standing by theblazing wood fire in the huge chimney a girl in a riding dress. Sheraised her head, and the firelight struck upwards on her face, adding awarmth to its bright colours and a dancing light to the depths of herdark eyes. Her hair was drawn backwards from her forehead, and thefrank, sweet face revealed to him from the broad forehead to the roundedchin told him that here was one who joined to a royal dignity the simplenature of a peasant girl who works in the fields and knows more ofanimals than of mankind. Wogan was back again in that stone hall whenthe voice of the Chevalier with its strong French accent broke in uponhis vision.
"Well, we will hear the story. Well, you left Ohlau with the Princessand her mother and a mile-long train of servants in spite of my commandsof secrecy."
There was more anger and less despondency than was often heard in hisvoice. Wogan raised himself again on tiptoes and noticed that theChevalier'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 withan address of welcome in which he used not our incognitos but our truenames."
"From Ratisbon then no doubt you hurried? Since you were discovered, youshed your retinue and hurried?"
"Sir, we hurried--to Augsburg," faltered Hay. He stopped, and then in aburst of desperation he said, "At Augsburg we stayed eight days."
"Eight days?"
There was a stir throughout the room; a murmur began and ceased. Woganwiped his forehead and crushed his handkerchief into a hard ball in hispalm. It seemed to him that here in this room he could see the PrincessClementina'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 famousfor its jewellers," stammered Hay.
The murmur rose again; it became almost a cry of stupefaction. TheChevalier sprang from his chair. "Her jewels reset!" he said. Herepeated the words in bewilderment. "Her jewels reset!" Then he droppedagain into his seat.
"I lose a wife, gentlemen, and very likely a kingdom too, so that a ladymay have her jewels reset at Augsburg, where, to be sure, there arefamous jewellers."
His glance, wandering in a dazed way about the room, settled again onHay. He stamped his foot on the ground in a feverish irritation.
"And those eight days gave just the time for a courier from the Emperorat Vienna to pass you on the road and not press his horse. One should beglad of that. It would have been a pity had the courier killed hishorse. Oh, I can fashion the rest of the story for myself. You trailedon to Innspruck, where the Governor marched out with a troop and herdedyou in. They let _you_ go, however. No doubt they bade you hurry back tome."
"Sir, I did hurry," said Hay, who was now in a pitiable confusion. "Itravelled hither without rest."
The anger waned in the Chevalier's eyes as he heard the plea, and agreat dejection crept over his face.
"Yes, you would do that," said he. "That would be the time for you tohurry with a pigeon's swiftness so that your King might taste his bitternews not a minute later than need be. And what said she upon herarrest?"
"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 aminute. Then she leaned forward to the Governor, who stood by hercarriage, and cried, 'Shut four walls about me quick! I could sink intothe earth for shame.'"
Wogan in those words heard her voice as clearly as he saw her face andthe dry lips between which the voice passed. He had it in his heart tocry aloud, to send the words ringing through that hushed room, "Shewould have tramped here barefoot had she had one guide with a spirit tomatch hers." For a moment he almost fancied that he had spoken them, andthat he heard the echo of his voice vibrating down to silence. But hehad not, and as he realised that he had not, a new thought occurred tohim. No one had remarked his entrance into the room. The group in frontstill stood with their backs towards him. Since his entrance no one hadremarked his presence. At once he turned and opened the door so gentlythat there was not so much as a click of the latch. He opened it justwide enough for himself to slip through, and he closed it behind himwith the same caution. On the landing there was only the usher. Woganlooked 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 init;" and Wogan put his hand into his pocket. "You have not seen me ifany 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 fewlackeys at the door, but they would not concern themselves at allbecause Mr. Wogan had returned to Bologna. He looked carefully out intothe street, chose a moment when it was empty, and hurried across it. Hedived into the first dark alley that he came to, and following the wyndsand byways of
the town made his way quickly to his lodging. He had thekey 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 apair 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 tohis rooms, where he had the good fortune to find his servant. Wogan hadno need to sign to him to be silent. The man was a veteran corporal ofFrench Guards who after many seasons of campaigning in Spain and the LowCountries had now for five years served Mr. Wogan. He looked at hismaster and without a word went off to make his bed.
Wogan sat down and went carefully over in his mind every minute of thetime since he had entered Bologna. No one had noticed him when he rodein as the lady's postillion,--no one. He was sure of that. The ladyherself did not know him from Adam, and fancied him an Italian into thebargain--of that, too, he had no doubt. The handful of lackeys at thedoor of the King's house need not be taken into account. They mightgossip among themselves, but Wogan's appearances and disappearances wereso ordinary a matter, even that was unlikely. The usher's silence he hadalready secured. There was only one acquaintance who had met and spokenwith him, and that by the best of good fortune was HarryWhittington,--the idler who took his banishment and his King'smisfortunes with an equally light heart, and gave never a thought at allto anything weightier than a gamecock.
Wogan's spirits revived. He had not yet come to the end of his luck. Hesat down and wrote a short letter and sealed it up.
"Marnier," he called out in a low voice, and his servant came from theadjoining room, "take this to Mr. Edgar, the King's secretary, as soonas it grows dusk. Have a care that no one sees you deliver it. Lock theparlour door when you go, and take the key. I am not yet back fromRome." With that Wogan remembered that he had not slept for forty-eighthours. Within two minutes he was between the sheets; within five he wasasleep.