CHAPTER XVII
But Gaydon was out of his reckoning. There were no fairy tales told forMisset to overhear, and the Princess Clementina slept in her corner ofthe carriage. If a jolt upon a stone wakened her, a movement oppositetold her that her sentinel was watchful and alert. Three times theberlin stopped for a change of horses; and on each occasion Wogan wasout of the door and hurrying the ostlers before the wheels had ceased torevolve.
"You should sleep, my friend," said she.
"Not till we reach Italy," he replied; and with the confidence of achild she nestled warmly in her cloak again and closed her eyes. Thisfeeling of security was a new luxury to her after the months of anxietyand prison. The grey light of the morning stole into the berlin andrevealed to her the erect and tireless figure of her saviour. The sunleaped down the mountain-peaks, and the grey of the light was now asparkling gold. Wogan bade her Highness look from the carriage window,and she could not restrain a cry of delight. On her left, mountain-ridgerose behind mountain-ridge, away to the towering limestone cliffs ofMonte Scanupia; on her right, the white peaks of the Orto d'Abramflashed to the sun; and between the hills the broad valley of the Adigerolled southwards,--a summer country of villages and vines, ofmulberry-trees and fields of maize, in the midst of which rose thebelfries of an Italian town.
"This is Italy," she cried.
"But the Emperor's Italy," answered Wogan; and at half-past nine thatmorning the carriage stopped in the public square of Trent. As Woganstepped onto the ground, he saw a cloud of dust at the opposite side ofthe square, and wrapped in that cloud men on horseback like soldiers inthe smoke of battle; he heard, too, the sound of wheels. The Prince ofBaden had that instant driven away, and he had taken every procurablehorse in the town. Wogan's own horses could go no further. He came backto the door of the carriage.
"I must search through Trent," said he, "on the mere chance of findingwhat will serve us. Your Highness must wait in the inn;" and Clementina,muffling her face, said to him,--
"I dare not. My face is known in Trent, though this is the first timeever I saw it. But many gentlemen from Trent came to the Innspruckcarnival, and of these a good number were kind enough to offer me theirhearts. They were allowed to besiege me to their content. I must needsremain in the shelter of the carriage."
Wogan left Misset to stand sentinel, and hurried off upon his business.He ran from stable to stable, from inn to inn. The Prince of Baden hadhired thirty-six horses; six more were nowhere to be found. Wogan wouldbe content with four; he ended in a prayer for two. At each house thedoor was shut in his face. Wogan was in despair; nowhere could delay beso dangerous as at Trent, where there were soldiers, and a Governor whowould not hesitate to act without orders if he suspected the PrincessClementina was escaping through his town. Two hours had passed inWogan's vain search,--two hours of daylight, during which Clementina hadsat in an unharnessed carriage in the market square. Wogan ran back tothe square, half expecting to find that she had been recognised andarrested. As he reached the square, he saw that curious people wereloitering about the carriage; as he pushed through them, he heard themquestioning why travellers should on so hot a morning of spring sitmuffled up in a close, dark carriage when they could take their easebeneath trees in the inn-garden. One man laughed out at the Princess andthe comical figure she made with her scarlet cloak drawn tight about herface. Wogan himself had bought that cloak in Strasbourg to guard hisPrincess from the cold of the Brenner, and guessed what discomfort itsermine lining must now be costing her. And this lout dared to laugh andmake her, this incomparable woman, a butt for his ridicule! Wogan took astep towards the fellow with his fists clenched, but thought the betterof his impulse, and turning away ran to the palace of Prince Taxis.
This desperate course alone remained to him; he must have speech withthe Prince-bishop himself. At the palace, however, he was informed thatthe Prince was in bed with the gout. Mr. Wogan, however, insisted.
"You will present my duties to the Prince; you will show him mypassport; you will say that the Count of Cernes has business of the lastimportance in Italy, and begs permission, since the Prince of Baden hashired every post-horse in the town, to requisition half a dozenfarm-horses from the fields."
Mr. Wogan kicked his heels in the courtyard while the message was taken.At any moment some rumour of the curious spectacle in the square mightbe brought to the palace and excite inquiry. There might be anothercourier in pursuit besides the man whom Gaydon kept a prisoner. Woganwas devoured with a fever of impatience. It seemed to him hours beforethe Prince's secretary returned to him. The secretary handed him backhis passport, and on the part of the Prince made a speech full ofcivilities.
"Here's a great deal of jam, sir," said Wogan. "I misdoubt me but whatthere's a most unpalatable pill hidden away in it."
"Indeed," said the secretary, "the Prince begs you to be content and towait for the post-horses to return."
"Ah, ah!" cried Wogan, "but that's the one thing I cannot do. I mustspeak plainly, it appears." He drew the secretary out of ear-shot, andresumed: "My particular business is to catch up the Prince of Baden. Heis summoned back to Innspruck. Do you understand?" he askedsignificantly.
"Sir, we are well informed in Trent as to the Emperor's wishes," saidthe secretary, with a great deal of dignity.
"No, no, my friend," said Wogan. "It is not by the Emperor the Prince ofBaden is summoned, though I have no doubt the summons is much to histaste."
The secretary stepped back in surprise.
"By her Highness the Princess?" he exclaimed.
"She changes her mind; she is willing where before she was obdurate. Totell you the truth, the Prince plied her too hard, and she would havenone of him. Now that he turns his back and puts the miles as fast as hecan between himself and her, she cannot sleep for want of him."
The secretary nodded his head sagaciously.
"Her Highness is a woman," said he, "and that explains all. But it willdo her no harm to suffer a little longer for her obstinacy, and, to tellyou the truth, the Prince Taxis is so tormented with the gout that--"
"That you are unwilling to approach him a second time," interruptedWogan. "I have no doubt of it. I have myself seen prelates in a mostunprelatical mood. But here is a case where needs must. I have not toldyou all. There is a devil of a fellow called Charles Wogan."
The secretary nodded his head.
"A mad Irishman who has vowed to free her Highness."
"He has set out from Strasbourg with that aim."
"He will hang for it, then, but he will never rescue her;" and thesecretary began to laugh. "I cannot upon my honour vex the Prince againbecause a gallows-bird has prated in his cups."
"No, no," said Wogan; "you do not follow me. Charles Wogan will come tothe gallows over this adventure. For my part, I would have him broken onthe wheel and tortured in many uncomfortable ways. These Irishmen allthe world over are pestilent fellows. But the trouble is this: If herHighness hears of his attempt, she is, as you sagely discovered, awoman, a trivial, trifling thing. She will be absurd enough to imagineher rescue possible; she will again change her mind, and it is preciselythat which General Heister fears. He would have her formally betrothedto the Prince of Baden before Charles Wogan is caught and hangedsky-high. Therefore, since I was pressing into Italy, he charged me withthis message to the Prince of Baden. Now observe this, if you please.Suppose that I do not overtake the Prince; suppose that her Highnesshears of Wogan's coming and again changes her mind,--who will be toblame? Not I, for I have done my best, not Prince Taxis, for he is notinformed, but Prince Taxis's secretary."
The secretary yielded to Wogan's argument. He might be in a great fearof Prince Taxis, but he was in a greater of the Emperor's wrath. He leftWogan again, and in a little while came back with the writtenpermission which Wogan desired. Wogan wasted no time in unnecessarycivilities; the morning had already been wasted. The clocks werestriking one as he hurried away from the palace, and before two thePrincess Clementina was abl
e to throw back her cloak from about her faceand take the air; for the berlin was on the road from Trent to Roveredo.
"Those were the four worst hours since we left Innspruck," she said. "Ithought I should suffocate." The revulsion from despair, the knowledgethat each beat of the hoofs brought them nearer to safety, the glow ofthe sun upon a country which was Italy in all but name, raised them allto the top of their spirits. Clementina was in her gayest mood; shelavished caresses upon her "little woman," as she called Mrs. Misset;she would have Wogan give her an account of his interview with PrinceTaxis's secretary; she laughed with the merriest enjoyment over hisabuse of Charles Wogan.
"But it was not myself alone whom I slandered," said he. "Your Highnesshad a share of our abuse. Our heads wagged gravely over woman'sinconstancies. It was not in nature but you must change your mind.Indeed, your Highness would have laughed."
But at all events her Highness did not laugh now. On the contrary, hereyes lost all their merriment, and her blood rushed hotly into hercheeks. She became for that afternoon a creature of moods, now talkingquickly and perhaps a trifle wildly, now relapsing into long silences.Wogan was troubled by a thought that the strain of her journey wastelling its tale even upon her vigorous youth. It may be that she notedhis look of anxiety, but she said to him abruptly and with a sort ofrebellion,--
"You would despise any woman who had the temerity to change her mind."
"Nay; I do not say that."
"But it is merely politeness that restrains you. You would despise her,judging her by men. When a man changes his mind, why, it is so, hechanges his mind. But when a girl does, it may well be that for thefirst time she is seriously exercising her judgment. For her upbringingrenders it natural that she should allow others to make up her mind forher at the first."
"That I think is very true," said Wogan.
Clementina, however, was not satisfied with his assent. She attacked himagain and almost vindictively.
"You of course would never change your mind for any reason, once it wasfixed. You are resolute. You are quite, quite perfect."
Mr. Wogan could not imagine what he had done thus to provoke her irony.
"Madam," he pleaded, "I am not in truth so obstinate a fellow as youmake me out. I have often changed my mind. I take some pride in it onoccasion."
Her Highness inclined to a greater graciousness.
"I am glad to know it. You shall give me examples. One may have a stiffneck and yet no cause for pride."
Wogan looked so woe-begone under this reproof that Clementina suddenlybroke out into a laugh, and so showed herself in a fresh and morefamiliar mood. The good-humour continued; she sat opposite to Mr. Wogan;if she moved, her hand, her knee, her foot, must needs touch his; shemade him tell her stories of his campaigns; and so the evening came uponthem,--an evening of stars and mysterious quiet and a clear, dark sky.
They passed Roveredo; they drew near to Ala, the last village in theEmperor's territories. Five miles beyond Ala they would be on Venetiansoil, and already they saw the lights of the village twinkling like somany golden candles. But the berlin, which had drawn them so stoutlyover these rugged mountain-roads, failed them at the last. One of thehind wheels jolted violently upon a great stone, there was a suddencracking of wood, and the carriage lurched over, throwing its occupantsone against the other.
Wogan disentangled himself, opened the door, and sprang out. He sprangout into a pool of water. One glance at the carriage, dark though thenight was, told him surely what had happened. The axle-tree was broken.He saw that Clementina was about to follow him.
"There is water," said he. "It is ankle-deep."
"And no white stone," she answered with a laugh, "whereon I can safelyset my foot?"
"No," said he, "but you can trust without fear to my arms;" and hereached them out to her.
"Can I?" said she, in a curious voice; and when he had lifted her fromthe carriage, she was aware that she could not. He lifted her daintily,like a piece of porcelain; but to lift her was not enough, he must carryher. His arms tightened about her waist, hers in spite of herself abouthis shoulders. He took a step or two from the carriage, with the waterwashing over his boots, and the respectful support of a servant becamethe warm grip of a man. He no longer held her daintily; he clipped herclose to him, straining her breasts against his chest; he was on firewith her. She could not but know it; his arms shook, his bosom heaved;she felt the quick hammering of his heart; and a murmur, an inarticulatemurmur, of infinite longing trembled from his throat. And something ofhis madness passed into her and made a sweet tumult in her blood. Hestopped still holding her; he felt her fingers clasp tighter; he lookeddownwards into her face upturned to his. They were alone for a moment,these two, alone in an uninhabited world. The broken carriage, the busyfingers about it, the smoking horses, the lights of Ala twinkling in thevalley, had not even the substance of shadows. They simply were not, andthey never had been. There were just two people alive between thePoles,--not princess and servant, but man and woman in the primitiverelationship of rescuer and rescued; and they stood in the dark of atranslucent night of spring, with the stars throbbing above them to thetime of their passionate hearts, and the earth stretching about themrich as black velvet. He looked down into her eyes as once in thenight-time he had done before; and again he marvelled at theirsteadiness and their mysterious depths. Her eyes were fixed on his anddid not flinch; her arms were close about his neck; he bent his headtowards her, and she said in a queer, toneless voice, low but as steadyas her eyes,--
"I know. Ah, but well I know. Last night I dreamed; I rode on your blackhorse into your city of dreams;" and the moment of passion ended infarce. For Wogan, startled by the words, set her down there and theninto the pool. She stood over her ankles in water. She uttered a littlecry and shivered. Then she laughed and sprang lightly onto dry soil,making much of her companion's awkwardness. Wogan joined in thelaughter, finding therein as she did a cover and a cloak.
"We must walk to Ala," said he.
"It is as well," said she. "There was a time when cavaliers laid theircloaks in the mud to save a lady's shoe-sole."
"Madam," said Wogan, "the chivalry of to-day has the same intention."
"But in its effect," said she, "it is more rheumatical."
Wogan searched in the carriage and drew out a coil of rope which heslung across his shoulders like a bandolier. Clementina laughed at himfor his precautions, but Wogan was very serious. "I would not part withit," said he. "I never travelled for four days without being put to itfor a piece of rope."
They left the postillion to make what he could of the berlin and walkedforward in the clear night to Ala. The shock of the tumble had alarmedMrs. Misset; the fatigue of the journey had strained her endurance tothe utmost. She made no complaint, but she could walk but slowly andwith many rests by the way. It took a long while for them to reach thevillage. They saw the lights diminish in the houses; the stars grewpale; there came a hint of morning in the air. The laughter at Wogan'sawkwardness had long since died away, and they walked in silence.
Forty-eight hours had passed since the berlin left Innspruck.Twenty-four hours ago Clementina knew Wogan's secret. Now he was awarethat she knew it. They could not look into each other's faces, but theireyes conversed of it. If they turned their heads sharply away, thataversion of their gaze spoke no less clearly. There was a link betweenthem now, and a secret link, the sweeter on that account,perhaps,--certainly the more dangerous. The cloud had grown much biggerthan a man's hand. Moreover, she had never seen James Stuart; she hadhis picture, it is true, but the picture could not recall. It mustcreate, not revivify his image to her thoughts, and that it could notdo; so that he remained a shadowy figure to her, a mere number offeatures, almost an abstraction. On the other hand the King's emissarywalked by her side, sat sleepless before her, had held her in his arms,had talked with her, had risked his life for her; she knew him. What sheknew of James Stuart, she knew chiefly from the lips of this emissary.On this walk to Ala
he spoke of his master, and remorsefully in thehighest praise. But she knew his secret, she knew that he loved her, andtherefore every remorseful, loyal word he spoke praised him more than itpraised his master. And it happened that just as they came to theoutskirts of the village, she dropped a handkerchief which hung looselyabout her neck. For a moment she did not remark her loss; when she didand turned, she saw that her companion was rising from the ground onwhich no handkerchief longer lay, and that he had his right hand in hisbreast. She turned again without a word, and walked forward. But sheknew that kerchief was against his heart, and the cloud still grew.