Clementina

Wogan's self-appointed valet got to his feet. There was no possibility

of an escape for him since there were three men between him and the

door. On the other hand, obedience to Wogan might save him from a charge

of attempted theft.

"In with you," said Wogan, and the man obeyed. His head no doubt was

still spinning from the blow, and he had the stupid look of one dazed.

"There is no lock to the door," said the landlord.

"There is no need of a lock," said Wogan, "so long as one has a chair.

The fellow will do very well till the morning. But I will take your

three candles, for it is not likely that I shall sleep."

Wogan smoked his pipe all the rest of the night, reclining on a couple

of chairs in front of the cupboard. In the morning he made his valet

walk three miles by his horse's side. The man dared not disobey, and

when Wogan finally let him go he was so far from the town that, had he

confederates there, he could do no harm.

Wogan continued his journey. Towns, it was proved, were no safer to him

than villages. He began to wonder how it was that no traps had been laid

for him on the earlier stages of his journey, and he suddenly hit upon

the explanation. "It was that night," said he to himself, "when the

Prince sat by the Countess with the list of my friends in his hands. The

names were all erased but three, and against those three was that other

name of Schlestadt. No doubt the Countess while she bent over her

harp-strings took a look at that list. I must run the gauntlet into

Schlestadt."

Towards evening he came to Stuttgart and rode through the Schloss Platz

and along the Königstrasse. Wogan would not sleep there, since there the

Duke of Würtemberg held his court, and in that court the Countess of

Berg was very likely to have friends. He rode onwards through the valley

along the banks of the Nesen brook until he came to its junction with

the Neckar.

A mile farther a wooden mill stood upon the river-bank, beyond the mill

was a tavern, and beyond the tavern stood a few cottages. At some

distance from the cottages along the road, Wogan could see a high brick

wall, and over the top the chimneys and the slate roof of a large house.

Wogan stopped at the tavern. It promised no particular comfort, it was a

small dilapidated house; but it had the advantage that it was free from

new paint. It seemed to Wogan, however, wellnigh useless to take

precautions in the choice of a lodging; danger leaped at him from every

quarter. For this last night he must trust to his luck; and besides

there was the splash of the water falling over the mill-dam. It was

always something to Wogan to fall asleep with that sound in his ears. He

dismounted accordingly, and having ordered his supper asked for a room.