Clementina

The next morning Wogan was tossing from side to side in a high fever.

The fever itself was of no great importance, but it had consequences of

a world-wide influence, for it left Wogan weak and tied to his bed; so

that it was Gaydon who travelled to Rome and obtained the Pope's

passport. Gaydon consequently saw what otherwise Wogan would have seen;

and Gaydon, the cautious, prudent Gaydon, was careful to avoid making an

inopportune discovery, whereas Wogan would never have rested until he

had made it.

Gaydon stayed in Rome a week, lying snug and close in a lodging only one

street removed from that house upon the Tiber where his King lived.

Secrets had a way of leaking out, and Gaydon was determined that this

one should not through any inattention of his. He therefore never went

abroad until dark, and even then kept aloof from the house which

overlooked the Tiber. His business he conducted through his servant,

sending him to and fro between Edgar, the secretary, and himself. One

audience of his King alone he asked, and that was to be granted him on

the day of his departure from Rome.

Thus the time hung very heavily upon him. From daybreak to dusk he was

cooped within a little insignificant room which looked out upon a little

insignificant street. His window, however, though it promised little

diversion, was his one resource. Gaydon was a man of observation, and

found a pleasure in guessing at this and that person's business from his

appearance, his dress, and whether he went fast or slow. So he sat

steadily at his window, and after a day or two had passed he began to be

puzzled. The moment he was puzzled he became interested. On the second

day he drew his chair a little distance back from the window and

watched. On the third day he drew his chair close to the window, but at

the side and against the wall. In this way he could see everything that

happened and everyone who passed, and yet remain himself unobserved.

Almost opposite to his window stood a small mean house fallen into

neglect and disrepair. The windows were curtained with dust, many of the

panes were broken, the shutters hung upon broken hinges, the paint was

peeling from the door. The house had the most melancholy aspect of long

disuse. It seemed to belong to no one and to be crumbling pitifully to

ruin like an aged man who has no friends. Yet this house had its uses,

which Gaydon could not but perceive were of a secret kind. On the very

first day that Gaydon sat at his window a man, who seemed from his dress

to be of a high consideration, came sauntering along that sordid

thoroughfare, where he seemed entirely out of place, like a butterfly

on the high seas. To Gaydon's surprise he stopped at the door, gave a

cautious look round, and rapped quickly with his stick. At once the door

of that uninhabited house was opened. The man entered, the door was

closed upon him, and a good hour by Gaydon's watch elapsed before it was

opened again to let him out. In the afternoon another man came and was

admitted with the same secrecy. Both men had worn their hats drawn down

upon their foreheads, and whereas one of them held a muffler to his

face, the other had thrust his chin within the folds of his cravat.

Gaydon had not been able to see the face of either. After nightfall he

remarked that such visits became more frequent. Moreover, they were

repeated on the next day and the next. Gaydon watched, but never got any

nearer to a solution of the mystery. At the end of the sixth day he was

more puzzled and interested than ever, for closely as he had watched he

had not seen the face of any man who had passed in and out of that door.