CHAPTER XVI
When the horse galloped up to the door, the Princess turned on her sideand went to sleep. In the common-room below Gaydon and Wogan weresmoking a pipe of tobacco over the fire. Both men rose on the instant;Wogan stealthily opened the door an inch or so and looked down thepassage. Gaydon raised a corner of the blind and peered through thewindow. The two remaining members of the party, Misset and O'Toole, whoas lackeys had served the supper of the Princess, were now eating theirown. When the Princess turned over on her side, and Wogan stepped ontiptoe to the door and Gaydon peeped through the window, Misset laiddown his knife and fork, and drawing a flask from his pocket emptied itscontents into an earthenware water-jug which stood upon the table.O'Toole, for his part, simply continued to eat.
"He is getting off his horse," said Gaydon.
"Has he ridden hard, do you think?" asked Misset.
"He looks in a mighty ill-humour."
O'Toole looked up from his plate, and became gradually aware thatsomething was occurring. Before he could speak, however, Gaydon droppedthe blind.
"He is coming in. It will never do for him to find the four of ustogether. He may not be the courier from Innspruck; on the other hand,he may, and seeing the four of us he will ask questions of the landlord.Seeing no more than two, he will very likely ask none."
O'Toole began to understand. He understood, at all events, that for himthere was to be no more supper. If two were to make themselves scarce,he knew that he would be one of the two.
"Very well," said he, heaving a sigh which made the glasses on the tabledance, and laying his napkin down he got up. To his surprise, however,he was bidden to stay.
"Gaydon and I will go," said Wogan. "Jack will find out the fellow'sbusiness."
Misset nodded his head, took up his knife and fork again. He leanedacross the table to O'Toole as the others stepped out of the room.
"You speak only French, Lucius. You come from Savoy." He had no time tosay more, for the new-comer stamped blustering down the passage andflung into the room. The man, as Gaydon had remarked, was in a mightyill-humour; his clothes and his face were splashed with mud, and heseemed, moreover, in the last stage of exhaustion. For though he bawledfor the landlord it was in a weak, hoarse voice, which did not reachbeyond the door.
Misset looked at him with sympathy.
"You have no doubt come far," said he; "and the landlord's a laggard.Here's something that may comfort you till he comes;" and he filled aglass half full with red Tyrol wine from the bottle at his elbow.
The man thanked him and advanced to the table.
"It is a raw hot wine," continued Misset, "and goes better with water;"and he filled up the glass from the water-jug. The courier reached outhis hand for it.
"I am the thirstiest man in all Germany," said he, and he took a gulp ofthe wine and immediately fell to spluttering.
"Save us," said he, "but this wine is devilishly strong."
"Try some more water," said Misset, and again he filled up the glass.The courier drank it all in a single draught, and stood winking his eyesand shaking his head.
"That warms a man," said he. "It does one good;" and again he called forthe landlord, and this time in a strange voice. The landlord stilllagged, however, and Misset did not doubt that Wogan had found a meansto detain him. He filled up the courier's glass again, half wine, halfwater. The courier sat heavily down in a chair.
"I take the liberty, gentlemen," said he. "I am no better than adung-heap to sit beside gentlemen. But indeed I can stand no longer.Never have I stridden across such vile slaughter-house cattle as theykeep for travellers on the Brenner road. I have sprained my legs withspurring 'em. Seven times," he cried with an oath,--"seven times has ahorse dropped under me to-day. There's not an inch of me unbruised,curse me if there is! I'm a cake of mud."
Misset knew very well why the courier had suffered these falls. Thehorses he had ridden had first been tired by the Prince of Baden, andthen had the last spark of fire flogged out of them by the Princess'spostillions. He merely shrugged his shoulders, however, and said, "Thatlooks ill for us."
The courier gazed suddenly at Misset, then at O'Toole, with a dull sortof suspicion in his eyes.
"And which way might you gentlemen be travelling?"
"To Innspruck; we're from Trent," said Misset, boldly.
The courier turned to O'Toole.
"And you too, sir?"
O'Toole turned a stolid, uncomprehending face upon the courier.
"Pour moi, monsieur, je suis Savoyard. Monsieur qui vous parle, c'estmon compagnon de negoce."
The courier gazed with blank, heavy eyes at O'Toole. He had theappearance of a man fuddled with drink. He heaved a sigh or two.
"Will you repeat that," he said at length, "and slowly?"
O'Toole repeated his remark, and the courier nodded at him. "That'svery strange," said he, solemnly, wagging his head. "I do not disputeits truth, but it is most strange. I will tell my wife of it." He turnedin his chair, and a twinge from his bruises made him cry out. "I shallbe as stiff as a mummy in the morning," he exclaimed, and swore loudlyat "the bandits" who had caused him this deplorable journey. Misset andO'Toole exchanged a quick glance, and Misset pushed the glass across thetable. The courier took it, and his eyes lighted up.
"You have come from Trent," said he. "Did you pass a travelling carriageon the road?"
"Yes," said Misset; "the Prince of Baden with a large following droveinto Trent as we came out."
"Yes, yes," said the courier. "But no second party behind the Prince?"
Misset shook his head; he made a pretence of consulting O'Toole inFrench, and O'Toole shook his head.
"Then I shall have the robbers," cried the courier. "They are to beflayed alive, and they deserve it," he shouted fiercely to Misset."Gallows-birds!"
He dropped his head upon his arms and muttered "gallows-birds" again. Itseemed that he was falling asleep, but he suddenly sat up and beat onthe table with his fist.
"I have eaten nothing since the morning. Ah--gallows-birds--flayedalive, and hanged--no, hanged and flayed alive--no, that's impossible."He drank off the wine which Misset had poured out for him, and rose fromhis chair. "Where's the landlord? I want supper. I want besides to speakto him;" and he staggered towards the door.
"As for supper," said Misset, "we shall be glad if you will share ours.Travellers should be friendly."
O'Toole caught the courier by the arm and with a polite speech in Frenchdrew him again down into his chair. The courier stared at O'Toole andforgot all about the landlord. He had eaten nothing all day, and thewine and the water-jug had gone to his head. He put a long forefinger onO'Toole's knee.
"Say that again," said he, and O'Toole obeyed. A slow, fat smile spreadall over the courier's face.
"I'll tell my wife about it," said he. He tried to clap O'Toole on theback, and missing him fell forward with his face on the table. The nextminute he was snoring. Misset walked round the table and deftly pickedhis pockets. There was a package in one of them superscribed to "PrinceTaxis, the Governor of Trent." Misset deliberately broke the seal andread the contents. He handed the package to O'Toole, who read it, andthen flinging it upon the ground danced upon it. Misset went out of theroom and found Wogan and Gaydon keeping watch by Clementina's door. Tothem he spoke in a whisper.
"The fellow brings letters from General Heister to the Governor of Trentto stop us at all costs. But his letters are destroyed, and he's lyingdead-drunk on the table."
The three men quickly concerted a plan. The Princess must be roused; astart must be made at once; and O'Toole must be left behind to keep awatch upon the courier, Wogan rapped at the door and waked Clementina;he sent Gaydon to the stables to bribe the ostlers, and with Misset wentdown to inform O'Toole.
O'Toole, however, was sitting with his eyes closed and his head nodding,surrounded by scraps of the letter which he had danced to pieces. Woganshook him by the shoulder, and he opened his eyes and smiled fatuously.
"He means to tell his wife," he said with a foolish gurgle of laughter."He must be an ass. I don't think if I had a wife I should tell her.Would you, Wogan, tell your wife if you had one? Misset wouldn't tellhis wife."
Misset interrupted him.
"What have you drank since I went out of the room?" he asked roughly. Hetook up the water-jug and turned it topsy-turvy. It was quite empty.
"Only water," said O'Toole, dreamily, and he laughed again. "Now Iwouldn't mind telling my wife that," said he.
Misset let him go and turned with a gesture of despair to Wogan.
"I poured my flask out into the water-bottle. It was full of burntStrasbourg brandy, of double strength. It is as potent as opium. Neitherof them will have his wits before to-morrow. It will not help us toleave O'Toole to guard the courier."
"And we cannot take him," said Wogan. "There is the Princess to bethought of. We must leave him, and we cannot leave him alone, for hisneck's in danger,--more than in danger if the courier wakes before him."
He picked up carefully the scraps of the letter and placed them in themiddle of the fire. They were hardly burnt before Gaydon came into theroom with word that horses were already being harnessed to the berlin.Wogan explained their predicament.
"We must choose which of us three shall stay behind," said he.
"Which of us two," Misset corrected, pointing to Gaydon and himself."When the Princess drives into Bologna, Charles Wogan, who first had thehigh heart to dare this exploit, the brain to plot, the hand to executeit,--Charles Wogan must ride at her side, not Misset, not Gaydon. I takeno man's honours." He shook Wogan by the hand as he spoke, and he hadspoken with an extraordinary warmth of admiration. Gaydon could do noless than follow his companion's example, though there was a shade ofembarrassment in his manner of assenting. It was not that he had anyenvy of Wogan, or any desire to rob him of a single tittle of his duecredit. There was nothing mean in Gaydon's nature, but here was ahalving of Clementina's protectors, and he could not stifle a suspicionthat the best man of the four to leave behind was really Charles Woganhimself. Not a word, however, of this could he say, and so he nodded hisassent to Misset's proposal.
"It is I, then, who stay behind with O'Toole and the courier," he said."Misset has a wife; the lot evidently falls to me. We will make a shiftsomehow or another to keep the fellow quiet till sundown to-morrow,which time should see you out of danger." He unbuckled the sword fromhis waist and laid it on the table, and that simple action somehowtouched Wogan to the heart. He slipped his arm into Gaydon's and saidremorsefully,--
"Dick, I do hate to leave you, you and Lucius. I swept you into theperil, you two, my friends, and now I leave you in the thick of it tofind a way out for yourselves. But there is no remedy, is there? I shallnot rest until I see you both again. Goodbye, Lucius." He looked atO'Toole sprawling with outstretched legs upon his groaning chair. "Mysix feet four," said he, turning to Gaydon; "you must give me thepassport. Have a good care of him, Dick;" and he gripped O'Tooleaffectionately by the arms for a second, and then taking the passporthurried from the room. Gaydon had seldom seen Wogan so moved.
The berlin was brought round to the door; the Princess, rosy with sleep,stepped into it; Wogan had brought with him a muff, and he slipped itover Clementina's feet to keep her warm during the night; Misset tookGaydon's place, and the postillion cracked his whip and set off towardsTrent. Gaydon, sitting before the fire in the parlour, heard the wheelsgrate upon the road; he had a vision of the berlin thundering throughthe night with a trail of sparks from the wheels; and he wonderedwhether Misset was asleep or merely leaning back with his eyes shut, andthus visiting incognito Woman's fairy-land of dreams. However, Gaydonconsoled himself with the reflection that it was none of his business.