Clementina

Wogan left Misset to stand sentinel, and hurried off upon his business.

He ran from stable to stable, from inn to inn. The Prince of Baden had

hired thirty-six horses; six more were nowhere to be found. Wogan would

be content with four; he ended in a prayer for two. At each house the

door was shut in his face. Wogan was in despair; nowhere could delay be

so dangerous as at Trent, where there were soldiers, and a Governor who

would not hesitate to act without orders if he suspected the Princess

Clementina was escaping through his town. Two hours had passed in

Wogan's vain search,--two hours of daylight, during which Clementina had

sat in an unharnessed carriage in the market square. Wogan ran back to

the square, half expecting to find that she had been recognised and

arrested. As he reached the square, he saw that curious people were

loitering about the carriage; as he pushed through them, he heard them

questioning why travellers should on so hot a morning of spring sit

muffled up in a close, dark carriage when they could take their ease

beneath trees in the inn-garden. One man laughed out at the Princess and

the comical figure she made with her scarlet cloak drawn tight about her

face. Wogan himself had bought that cloak in Strasbourg to guard his

Princess from the cold of the Brenner, and guessed what discomfort its

ermine lining must now be costing her. And this lout dared to laugh and

make her, this incomparable woman, a butt for his ridicule! Wogan took a

step towards the fellow with his fists clenched, but thought the better

of his impulse, and turning away ran to the palace of Prince Taxis.

This desperate course alone remained to him; he must have speech with

the Prince-bishop himself. At the palace, however, he was informed that

the Prince was in bed with the gout. Mr. Wogan, however, insisted.

"You will present my duties to the Prince; you will show him my

passport; you will say that the Count of Cernes has business of the last

importance in Italy, and begs permission, since the Prince of Baden has

hired every post-horse in the town, to requisition half a dozen

farm-horses from the fields."

Mr. Wogan kicked his heels in the courtyard while the message was taken.

At any moment some rumour of the curious spectacle in the square might

be brought to the palace and excite inquiry. There might be another

courier in pursuit besides the man whom Gaydon kept a prisoner. Wogan

was devoured with a fever of impatience. It seemed to him hours before

the Prince's secretary returned to him. The secretary handed him back

his passport, and on the part of the Prince made a speech full of

civilities.