Wogan closed the window cautiously. The snow had drifted through and lay

melting in a heap beneath the sill. He drew the curtain across the

embrasure, and then he crossed to the bedroom door.

"Jenny," he whispered, "are you in bed?"

"Yes."

"Lie close! Do not show your face nor speak. Only groan, and groan most

delicately, or we are lost."

He closed the door upon Jenny, and turning about came face to face with

the Princess-mother. She stood confronting him, a finger on her lips,

and terror in her eyes; and he heard the street-door open and clang to

below.

"The magistrate!" she whispered.

"Courage, your Highness. Keep them from the bed! Say that her eyes are

weak and cannot bear the light."

He slipped behind the curtain into the embrasure, picturing to himself

the disposition of the room, lest he should have left behind a trifle to

betray him. He had in a supreme degree that gift of recollection which

takes the form of a mental vision. He did not have to count over the

details of the room; he summoned a picture of it to his mind, and saw

it and its contents from corner to corner. And thus while the footsteps

yet sounded on the stair, he saw Clementina's bundle lying forgotten on

a couch. He darted from his hiding-place, seized it, and ran back. He

had just sufficient and not a second more time, for the curtain had not

ceased to swing when the magistrate knocked, and without waiting for an

answer entered. He was followed by two soldiers, and these he ordered to

wait without the door.

"Your Highness," he said in a polite voice, and stopped abruptly. It

seemed to Wogan behind the curtain that his heart stopped at the same

moment and with no less abruptness. There was no evidence of

Clementina's flight to justify that sudden silence. Then he grew faint,

as it occurred to him that he had made Lady Featherstone's

mistake,--that his boot protruded into the room. He clenched his teeth,

expecting a swift step and the curtain to be torn aside. The window was

shut; he would never have time to open it and leap out and take his

chance with the sentry underneath. He was caught in a trap, and

Clementina waited for him in the avenue, under the fourth tree. All was

lost, it seemed, and by his own folly, his own confidence. Had he only

told her of the tavern under the city wall, where the carriage stood

with its horses harnessed in the shafts, she might still have escaped,

though he was trapped. The sweat passed down his face. Yet no swift step

was taken, nor was the curtain torn aside.




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