Clementina

"Let me rouse Gaydon."

"Gaydon went three days ago."

"Ah! And Misset is with his wife. Here are we all once more scattered,

and, as you say, God knows when we shall speak together again;" and he

went on to the upper storey.

O'Toole remarked that he dragged in his walk and that his voice had a

strange, sad note of melancholy.

"My friend," said he, "you have the black fit upon you; you are plainly

discouraged. Yet to-night sees the labour of many months brought to its

due close;" and as he lit the candles on his chimney, he was quite

amazed by the white, tired face which the light showed to him. Wogan,

indeed, harassed by misgivings, and worn with many vigils, presented a

sufficiently woe-begone picture. The effect was heightened by the

disorder of his clothes, which were all daubed with clay in a manner

quite surprising to O'Toole, who knew the ground to be dry underfoot.

"True," answered Wogan, "the work ends to-night. Months ago I rode down

this street in the early morning, and with what high hopes! The work

ends to-night, and may God forgive me for a meddlesome fellow. Cup and

ball's a fine game, but it is ill playing it with women's hearts;" and

he broke off suddenly. "I'll give you a toast, Lucius! Here's to the

Princess Clementina!" and draining his glass he stood for a while, lost

in the recollecting of that flight from Innspruck; he was far away from

Bologna thundering down the Brenner through the night, with the sparks

striking from the wheels of the berlin, and all about him a glimmering,

shapeless waste of snow.

"To the Princess--no, to the Queen she was born to be," cried O'Toole,

and Wogan sprang at him.

"You saw that," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting, his face transfigured

in the intensity of this moment's relief. "Aye,--to love a nation,--that

is her high destiny. For others, a husband, a man; for her, a nation.

And you saw it! It is evident, to be sure. Yet this or that thing she

did, this or that word she spoke, assured you, eh? Tell me what proved

to you here was no mere woman, but a queen!"

The morning had dawned before Wogan had had his fill. O'Toole was very

well content to see his friend's face once more quivering like a boy's

with pleasure, to hear him laugh, to watch the despondency vanish from

his aspect. "There's another piece of good news," he said at the end,

"which I had almost forgotten to tell you. Jenny and the Princess's

mother are happily set free. It seems Jenny swore from daybreak to

daybreak, and the Pope used his kindliest offices, and for those two

reasons the Emperor was glad to let them go. But there's a question I

would like to ask you. One little matter puzzles me."