"It might be a courier to arrest us. If I shout, drive fast as you can

to Nazareth, and from Nazareth to Italy."

He hurried down the road and was hailed by O'Toole.

"I have it," said he. Wogan turned and ran by O'Toole's stirrup to the

carriage.

"The landlady has a good conscience and sleeps well," said O'Toole. "I

found the house dark and the doors shut. They were only secured,

however, by a wooden beam dropped into a couple of sockets on the

inside."

"But how did you open them?" asked Clementina.

"Your Highness, I have, after all, a pair of arms," said O'Toole. "I

just pressed on the doors till--"

"Till the sockets gave?"

"No, till the beam broke," said he, and Clementina laughed.

"That's my six foot four!" said she. O'Toole did not understand. But he

smiled with great condescension and dignity, and continued his story.

"I groped my way up the stairs into the room and found the bundle

untouched in the corner."

He handed it to the Princess; Wogan sprang again onto the box, and

Gaydon whipped up the horses. They reached the first posting stage at

two, the second at four, the third at six, and at each they wasted no

time. All that night their horses strained up the mountain road amid the

whirling sleet. At times the wind roaring down a gorge would set the

carriage rocking; at times they stuck fast in drifts; and Wogan and

Gaydon must leap from the box and plunging waist-deep in the snow, must

drag at the horses and push at the wheels. The pace was too slow; Wogan

seemed to hear on every gust of wind the sound of a galloping company.

"We have lost twelve hours, more than twelve hours now," he repeated and

repeated to Gaydon. All the way to Ala they would still be in the

Emperor's territory. It needed only a single courier to gallop past

them, and at either Roveredo or Trent they would infallibly be taken.

Wogan fingered his pistols, straining his eyes backwards down the road.

At daybreak the snow stopped; the carriage rolled on high among the

mountains under a grey sky; and here and there, at a wind of the road,

Wogan caught a glimpse of the towers and chimney-tops of Innspruck, or

had within his view a stretch of the slope they had climbed. But there

was never a black speck visible upon the white of the snow; as yet no

courier was overtaking them, as yet Innspruck did not know its captive

had escaped. At eight o'clock in the morning they came to Nazareth, and

found their own berlin ready harnessed at the post-house door, the

postillion already in his saddle, and Misset waiting with an uncovered

head.




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