Clementina

"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."