"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."