Clementina

  CHAPTER XVIII

  They reached Ala towards two o'clock of the morning. The town had somereputation in those days for its velvets and silks, and Wogan made nodoubt that somewhere he would procure a carriage to convey them thenecessary five miles into Venetian territory. The Prince of Baden wasstill ahead of them, however. The inn of "The Golden Lion" had not asingle horse fit for their use in its stables. Wogan, however, obtainedthere a few likely addresses and set out alone upon his search. Hereturned in a couple of hours with a little two-wheeled cart drawn by apony, and sent word within that he was ready. Clementina herself withher hood thrown back from her face came out to him at the door. An oillamp swung in the passage and lit up her face. Wogan could see that theface was grave and anxious.

  "Your Highness and Mrs. Misset can ride in the cart. It has no springs,to be sure, and may shake to pieces like plaster. But if it carries youfive miles, it will serve. Misset and I can run by the side."

  "But Lucy Misset must not go," said Clementina. "She is ill, and nowonder. She must not take one step more to-night. There would be greatdanger, and indeed she has endured enough for me." The gravity of thegirl's face, as much as her words, convinced Wogan that here was nooccasion for encouragement or resistance. He said with someembarrassment,--

  "Yet we cannot leave her here alone; and of us two men, her husband muststay with her."

  "Dare we wait till the morning?" asked Clementina. "Lucy may berecovered then."

  Wogan shook his head.

  "The courier we stopped at Wellishmile was not the only man sent afterus. Of that we may be very sure. Here are we five miles from safety, andwhile those five miles are still unbridged--Listen!"

  Wogan leaned his head forward and held up his hand for silence. In thestill night they could hear far away the galloping of a horse. The soundgrew more distinct as they listened.

  "The rider comes from Italy," said Clementina. "But he might have comefrom Trent," cried Wogan. "We left Trent behind twelve hours ago, andmore. For twelve hours we crept and crawled along the road; these lastmiles we have walked. Any moment the Emperor's troopers might comeriding after us. Ah, but we are not safe! I am afraid!"

  Clementina turned sharply towards him as he spoke this unwontedconfession.

  "You!" she exclaimed with a wondering laugh. Yet he had spoken thetruth. His face was twitching; his eyes had the look of a man scared outof his wits.

  "Yes, I am afraid," he said in a low, uneasy voice. "When I have all butwon through the danger, then comes my moment of fear. In the thick ofit, perils tread too close upon the heels of peril for a man to countthem up. Each minute claims your hands and eyes and brain,--claims youand inspires you. But when the danger's less, and though less stillthreatens; when you're just this side of safety's frontier and notsafe,--indeed, indeed, one should be afraid. A vain spirit ofconfidence, and the tired head nods, and the blow falls on it fromnowhere. Oh, but I have seen examples times out of mind. I beg you, nodelay!"

  The hoofs of the approaching horse sounded ever louder while Woganspoke; and as he ended, a man rode out from the street into the openspace before the inn. The gallop became a trot.

  "He is riding to the door," said Wogan. "The light falls on your face;"and he drew Clementina into the shadow of the wall. But at the samemoment the rider changed his mind. He swerved; it seemed too that heused his spurs, for his horse bounded beneath him and galloped past theinn. He disappeared into the darkness, and the sound of the horsediminished. Wogan listened until they had died away.

  "He rides into Austria!" said he. "He rides to Trent, to Brixen, toInnspruck! And in haste. Let us go! I had even a fancy that I knew hisvoice."

  "From a single oath uttered in anger! Nay, you are all fears. For mypart, I was afraid that he had it in his mind to stay here at this innwhere my little woman lies. What if suspicion fall on her? What if thosetroopers of the Emperor find her and guess the part she played!"

  "You make her safe by seeking safety," returned Wogan. "You are the preythe Emperor flies at. Once you are out of reach, his mere dignity musthold him in from wreaking vengeance on your friends."

  Wogan went into the inn, and calling Misset told him of his purpose. Hewould drive her Highness to Peri, a little village ten miles from Ala,but in Italy. At Peri, Mrs. Misset and her husband were to rejoin themin the morning, and from Peri they could travel by slow stages toBologna. The tears flowed from Clementina's eyes when she took herfarewell of her little woman. Though her reason bowed to Wogan'sargument, she had a sense of cowardice in deserting so faithful afriend. Mrs. Misset, however, joined in Wogan's prayer; and she mountedinto the trap and at Wogan's side drove out of the town by that streetalong which the horseman had ridden.

  Clementina was silent; her driver was no more talkative. They were aloneand together on the road to Italy. That embarrassment from which Wogan'sconfession of fear had procured them some respite held them in a stiffconstraint. They were conscious of it as of a tide engulfing them.Neither dared to speak, dreading what might come of speech. The mostcareless question, the most indifferent comment, might, as it seemed toboth, be the spark to fire a mine. Neither had any confidence to say,once they had begun to talk, whither the talk would lead; but they werevery much afraid, and they sat very still lest a movement of the oneshould provoke a question in the other. She knew his secret, and he wasaware that she knew it. She could not have found it even then in herheart to part willingly with her knowledge. She had thought over-muchupon it during the last day. She had withdrawn herself into it from thecompany of her fellow-travellers, as into a private chamber; it wasfamiliar and near. Nor would Wogan have desired, now that she had theknowledge, to deprive her of it, but he knew it instinctively for adangerous thing. He drove on in silence while the stars paled in theheavens and a grey, pure light crept mistily up from the under edges ofthe world, and the morning broke hard and empty and cheerless. Wogansuddenly drew in the reins and stopped the cart.

  "There is a high wall behind us. It stretches across the fields fromeither side," said he. "It makes a gateway of the road."

  Clementina turned. The wall was perhaps ten yards behind them.

  "A gateway," said she, "through which we have passed."

  "The gateway of Italy," answered Wogan; and he drew the lash once ortwice across the pony's back and so was silent. Clementina looked at hisset and cheerless face, cheerless as that chill morning, and she too wassilent. She looked back along the road which she had traversed throughsnow and sunshine and clear nights of stars; she saw it winding out fromthe gates of Innspruck over the mountains, above the foaming river, andafter a while she said very wistfully,--

  "There are worse lives than a gipsy's."

  "Are there any better?" answered Wogan.

  So this was what Mr. Wogan's fine project had come to. He rememberedanother morning when the light had welled over the hills, sunless andclear and cold, on the road to Bologna,--the morning of the day when hehad first conceived the rescue of Clementina. And the rescue had beeneffected, and here was Clementina safe out of Austria, and Wogan sure ofa deathless renown, of the accomplishment of an endeavour held absurdand preposterous; and these two short sentences were their summary andcomment,--

  "There are worse lives than a gipsy's."

  "Are there any better?"

  Both had at this supreme crisis of their fortunes but the onethought,--that the only days through which they had really lived werethose last two days of flight, of hurry, of hope alternating withdespair, of light-hearted companionship, days never to be forgotten,when each snatched meal was a picnic seasoned with laughter, days ofunharnessed freedom lived in the open air.

  Clementina was the first to perceive that her behaviour fell below theoccasion. She was safe in Italy, journeying henceforward safely to herbetrothed. She spurred herself to understand it, she forced her lips tosing aloud the Te Deum. Wogan looked at her in surprise as the firstnotes were sung, and the woful appeal in her eyes compelled him to asbrave a show as he could make of j
oining in the hymn. But the wordsfaltered, the tune wavered, joyless and hollow in that empty morning.

  "Drive on," said Clementina, suddenly; and she had a sense that she wasbeing driven into bondage,--she who had just been freed. Wogan drove ontowards Peri.

  It was the morning of Sunday, the 30th of April; and as the little cartdrew near to this hamlet of thirty cottages, the travellers could hearthe single bell in the church belfry calling the villagers to Mass.Wogan spoke but once to Clementina, and then only to point out a woodenhut which stood picturesquely on a wooded bluff of Monte Lessini, highup upon the left. A narrow gorge down which a torrent foamed led upwardsto the bluff, and the hut of which the windows were shuttered, and whichseemed at that distance to have been built with an unusual elegance, wasto Wogan's thinking a hunting-box. Clementina looked up at the bluffindifferently and made no answer. She only spoke as Wogan drove pastthe church-door, and the sound of the priest's voice came droning out tothem.

  "Will you wait for me?" she asked. "I will not be long."

  Wogan stopped the pony.

  "You would give thanks?" said he. "I understand."

  "I would pray for an honest heart wherewith to give honest thanks," saidClementina, in a low voice; and she added hastily, "There is a life ofceremonies, there is a life of cities before me. I have lived under theskies these last two days."

  She went into the church, shrouding her face in her hood, and kneeleddown before a rush chair close to the door. A sense of gratitude,however, was not that morning to be got by any prayers, however earnest.It was merely a distaste for ceremonies and observances, she strenuouslyassured herself, that had grown upon her during these ten days. Shesought to get rid of that distaste, as she kneeled, by picturing in herthoughts the Prince to whom she was betrothed. She recalled theexploits, the virtues, which Wogan had ascribed to him; she stamped themupon the picture. "It is the King," she said to herself; and the pictureanswered her, "It is the King's servant." And, lo! the face of thepicture was the face of Charles Wogan. She covered her cheeks with herhands in a burning rush of shame; she struck in her thoughts at the faceof that image with her clenched fists, to bruise, to annihilate it. "Itis the King! It is the King! It is the King!" she cried in her remorse,but the image persisted. It still wore the likeness of Charles Wogan; itstill repeated, "No, it is the King's servant." There was more of theprimitive woman in this girl bred in the rugged country-side of Silesiathan even Wogan was aware of, and during the halts in their journey shehad learned from Mrs. Misset details which Wogan had been at pains toconceal. It was Wogan who had conceived the idea of her rescue--in theKing's place. In the King's place, Wogan had come to Innspruck andeffected it. In the King's place, he had taken her by the hand and clefta way for her through her enemies. He was the man, the rescuer; she wasthe woman, the rescued.

  She became conscious of the futility of her attitude of prayer. Sheraised her head and saw that a man kneeling close to the altar hadturned and was staring fixedly towards her. The man was the Prince ofBaden. Had he recognised her? She peered between her fingers; sheremarked that his gaze was puzzled; he was not then sure, though hesuspected. She waited until he turned his head again, and then shesilently rose to her feet and slipped out of the church. She found Woganwaiting for her in some anxiety.

  "Did he recognise you?" he asked.

  "He was not sure," answered Clementina. "How did you know he was atMass?"

  "A native I spoke with told me."

  Clementina climbed up into the cart.

  "The Prince is not a generous man," she said hesitatingly.

  Wogan understood her. The Prince of Baden must not know that she hadcome to Peri escorted by a single cavalier. He would talk bitterly, hewould make much of his good fortune in that he had not married thePrincess Clementina, he would pity the Chevalier de St. George,--therewas a fine tale there. Wogan could trace it across the tea-tables ofEurope, and hear the malicious inextinguishable laughter which winged iton its way. He drove off quickly from the church door.

  "He leaves Peri at nine," said Wogan. "He will have no time to makeinquiries. We have but to avoid the inn he stays at. There is a secondat the head of the village which we passed."

  To this second inn Wogan drove, and was welcomed by a shrewish womanwhose sour face was warmed for once in a way into something likeenthusiasm.

  "A lodging indeed you shall have," cried she, "and a better lodging thanthe Prince of Baden can look back upon, though he pay never so dearlyfor it. Poor man, he will have slept wakefully this night! Here, sir,you will find honest board and an honest bed for yourself and your sweetlady, and an honest bill to set you off in a sweet humour in themorning."

  "Nay, my good woman," interrupted Wogan, hastily. "This is no sweet ladyof mine, nor are we like to stay until the morrow. The truth is, we area party of four, but our carriage snapped its axle some miles back. Theyoung lady's uncle and aunt are following us, and we wait only for theirarrival."

  Wogan examined the inn and thought the disposition of it veryconvenient. It made three sides of a courtyard open to the road. On theright and the bottom were farm-buildings and a stable; the inn was thewing upon the left hand. The guest rooms, of which there were four, wereall situated upon the first floor and looked out upon a little thicketof fir-trees at the back of the wing. They were approached by astaircase, which ran up with a couple of turns from the courtyard itselfand on the outside of the house-wall. Wogan was very pleased with thatstaircase; it was narrow. He was pleased, too, because there were noother travellers in the inn. He went back to the landlady.

  "It is very likely," said he, "that my friends when they come will,after all, choose to stay here for the night. I will hire all the roomsupon the first floor."

  The landlady was no less pleased than Mr. Wogan. She had a thought thatthey were a runaway couple and served them breakfast in a little parlourup the stairs with many sly and confusing allusions. She becameconfused, however, when after breakfast Clementina withdrew to bed, andWogan sauntered out into the high-road, where he sat himself down on abank to watch for Captain Misset. All day he sat resolutely with hisback towards the inn. The landlady inferred that here were loversquarrelling, and she was yet more convinced of it when she entered theparlour in the afternoon to lay the table for dinner and saw Clementinastanding wistfully at the window with her eyes upon that unmoving back.Wogan meanwhile for all his vigilance watched the road but ill.Merchants, pedlars, friars, and gentlemen travelling for their pleasurepassed down the road into Italy. Mr. Wogan saw them not, or saw themwith unseeing eyes. His eyes were turned inwards, and he gazed at apicture that his heart held of a room in that inn behind him, whereafter all her dangers and fatigues a woman slept in peace. Towardsevening fewer travellers passed by, but there came one party of sixwell-mounted men whose leader suddenly bowed his head down upon hishorse's neck as he rode past. Wogan had preached a sermon on thecarelessness which comes with danger's diminutions, but he was verytired. The head was nodding; the blow might fall from nowhere, and henot know.

  At nightfall he returned and mounted to the parlour, where Clementinaawaited him.

  "There is no sign of Captain Misset," said he.

  Wogan was puzzled by the way in which Clementina received the news. Fora moment he thought that her eyes lightened, and that she was glad; thenit seemed to him that her eyes clouded and suddenly as if with pain. Norwas her voice a guide to him, for she spoke her simple question withoutsignificance,--

  "Must we wait, then, till the morning?"

  "There is a chance that they may come before the morning. I will watchon the top stair, and if they come I will make bold to wake yourHighness."

  Their hostess upon this brought their supper into the room, and Woganbecame at once aware of a change in her demeanour. She no longerembarrassed them with her patronage, nor did she continue her slyallusions to the escapades of lovers. On the contrary, she was of anextreme deference. Under the deference, too, Wogan seemed to remark acertain excitement.

&n
bsp; "Have you other lodgers to-night?" he asked carelessly.

  "No, sir," said she. "Travellers are taken by a big house and a bustleof servants. They stay at the Vapore Inn when they stay at Peri, and totheir cost."

  As soon as she had left the room Wogan asked of Clementina,--

  "When did her manner change?"

  "I had not remarked the change till now," replied Clementina.

  Wogan became uneasy. He went down into the courtyard, and found itempty. There was a light in the kitchen, and he entered the room. Thelandlady was having her supper in company with her few servants, andthere were one or two peasants from the village. Wogan chatted with themfor a few minutes and came out again much relieved of his fears. Hethought, however, it might be as well to see that his pony was ready foran emergency. He crossed silently to the stable, which he found dark asthe courtyard. The door was latched, but not locked. He opened it andwent in. The building was long, with many stalls ranged side by side.Wogan's pony stood in the end stall opposite to the door. Wogan tookdown the harness from the pegs and began to fix it ready on the pony. Hehad just put the collar over its head when he heard a horse stamping inone of the stalls at the other end of the stables. Now he had noticed inthe morning that there were only two horses in the building, and thosetwo were tied up in the stalls next to that which his pony occupied. Hewalked along the range of stalls. The two horses were there, then came agap of empty stalls, and beyond the gap he counted six other horses.Wogan became at once curious about those six other horses. They might ofcourse be farm-horses, but he wished to know. It was quite dark withinthe building; he had only counted the horses by the noise of theirmovements in their stalls, the rattle of their head-ropes, and thepawing of their feet. He dared not light a lamp, but horses as a ruleknew him for a friend. He went into the stall of the first, petted itfor a moment and ran his hand down its legs. He repeated the processwith the second, and with so much investigation he was content. Nofarm-horse that ever Wogan had seen had such a smooth sleek skin orsuch fine legs as had those two over which he had passed his hands. "Nowwhere are the masters of those horses?" he asked himself. "Why do theyleave their cattle at this inn and not show themselves in the kitchen orthe courtyard? Why do they not ask for a couple of my rooms?" Woganstood in the dark and reflected. Then he stepped out of the door witheven more caution than he had used when entering by it. He stolesilently along to the shed where his trap was housed, and felt beneaththe seat. From beneath the seat he drew out a coil of rope, and a lamp.The rope he wound about him under his coat. Then he went back to hisstaircase and the parlour.

  Clementina could read in his face that something was amiss, but she hada great gift of silence. She waited for him to speak. Wogan unwound thecoil of rope from his body.

  "Your Highness laughed at me for that I would not part with my rope. Ihave a fear this night will prove my wisdom." And with that he begandeliberately to break up the chairs in the room. Clementina asked noquestions; she watched him take the rungs and bars of the chairs andtest their strength. Then he cut the coil of rope in half and tied loopsat intervals; into the loops he fitted the wooden rungs. Wogan workedexpeditiously for an hour without opening his mouth. In an hour he hadfashioned a rope-ladder. He went to the window which looked out on theback of the wing, upon the little thicket of fir-trees. He opened thewindow cautiously and dropped the ladder down the wall.

  "Your Highness has courage," said he. "The ladder does not touch theground, but it will not be far to drop, should there be need."

  The window of Clementina's bedroom was next to that of the parlour andlooked out in the same direction. Wogan fixed the rope-ladder securelyto the foot of the bed and drew the bed close to the window. He left thelamp upon a chair and went back to the parlour and explained.

  "Your Highness," he added, "there may be no cause for any alarm. On theother hand, the Governor of Trent may have taken a leaf from my ownbook. He may have it in mind to snatch your Highness out of Italy evenas I did out of Austria; and of a truth it would be the easierundertaking. Here are we five miles from the border and in a smalltavern set apart from a small village, instead of in the thick of anarmed town."

  "But we might start now," she said. "We might leave a message behind forMrs. Misset and wait for her in Verona."

  "I had thought of that. But if my mere suspicion is the truth, the sixmen will not be so far from their six horses that we could drive awayunnoticed by any one of them. Nor could we hope to outpace them and sixmen upon an open road; indeed, I would sooner face them at the head ofmy staircase here. And while I hold them back your Highness can creepdown that ladder."

  "And hide in the thicket," she interrupted. "Yet--yet--that leaves youalone. I could give you some help;" and her face coloured. "You were sokind as to tell me I had courage. I could at the least load yourpistols."

  "You would do that?" cried Wogan. "Aye, but you would, you would!"

  For the first time that day he forgot to address her with the ceremonyof her title. All that day he had schooled his tongue to the use of it.They were not man and woman, though his heart would have it so; theywere princess and servant, and every minute he must remember it. But heforgot it now. Delicate she was to look upon as any princess who hadever adorned a court, delicate and fresh, rich-voiced and young, buthere was the rare woman flashing out like a light over stormy seas, thespirit of her and her courage!

  "You would load my pistols!" he repeated, his whole face alight. "To besure, you would do that. But I ask you, I think, for a higher courage. Iask you to climb down that ladder, to run alone, taking shelter whenthere's need, back to that narrow gorge we saw where the path leadsupwards to the bluff. There was a hut; two hours would take you to it,and there you should be safe. I will keep the enemy back till you aregone. If I can, when all is over here I'll follow you. If I do not come,why, you must--"

  "Ah, but you will come," said she, with a smile. "I have no fears butthat you will come;" and she added, "Else would you never persuade meto go."

  "Well, then, I will come. At all events, Captain Misset and his wifewill surely come down the road to-morrow. If I rap twice upon your door,you will take that for my signal. But it is very likely I shall not rapat all."

  Wogan shivered as he spoke. It was not for the first time during thatconversation, and a little later, as they stood together in the passageby the stair-head, Clementina twice remarked that he shivered again.There was an oil lamp burning against the passage wall, and by its lightshe could see that on that warm night of spring his face was pinchedwith cold. He was in truth chilled to the bone through lack of sleep;his eyes had the strained look of a man strung to the breaking point,and at the sight of him the mother in her was touched.

  "What if I watched to-night?" she said. "What if you slept?"

  Wogan laughed the suggestion aside.

  "I shall sleep very well," said he, "upon that top stair. I can countupon waking, though only the lowest step tremble beneath a foot." Thishe said, meaning not to sleep at all, as Clementina very wellunderstood. She leaned over the balustrade by Wogan's side and lookedupwards to the sky. The night was about them like a perfume of flowers.A stream bubbled and sang over stones behind the inn. The courtyardbelow was very silent. She laid a hand upon his sleeve and said againin a pleading voice,--

  "Let me watch to-night. There is no danger. You are racked bysleeplessness, and phantoms born of it wear the face of truth to you. Weare safe; we are in Italy. The stars tell me so. Let me watch to-night."And at once she was startled. He withdrew his arm so roughly that itseemed he flung off his hand; he spoke in a voice so hoarse and roughshe did not know it for his. And indeed it was a different man who nowconfronted her,--a man different from the dutiful servant who hadrescued her, different even from the man who had held her so tenderly inhis arms on the road to Ala.

  "Go to your room," said he. "You must not stay here."

  She stepped back in her surprise and faced him.

  "Every minute," he cried in a sort of exasper
ation, "I bid myselfremember the great gulf between you and me; every minute you forget it.I make a curtain of your rank, your title, and--let us be frank--yourdestiny; I hang the curtain up between us, and with a gentle hand youtear it down. At the end of it all I am flesh and blood. Why did I sitthe whole long dreary day out on the bank by the roadside there? Towatch? I could not describe to you one traveller out of them all whopassed. Why, then? Ask yourself! It was not that I might stand by yourside afterwards in the glamour of an Italian night with the starspulsing overhead like a smile upon your lips, and all the worldwhispering! You must not stay here!"

  His eyes burnt upon her; his hands shook; from head to foot he was hotand fierce with passion, and in spite of herself she kindled to it. Thathe loved she knew before, but his description of his city of dreams hadgiven to him in her thoughts a touch of fancifulness, had led her toconceive of his love as something dreamlike, had somehow spiritualisedhim to the hindrance of her grasp of him as flesh and blood. Thus, sheunderstood, she might well have seemed to be trifling with him, thoughnothing was further from her thoughts. But now he was dangerous; lovehad made him dangerous, and to her. She knew it, and in spite of herselfshe gloried in the knowledge. Her heart leaped into her eyes and shonethere responsive, unafraid. The next moment she lowered her head. But hehad seen the unmistakable look in her eyes. Even as she stood with herbowed head, he could not but feel that every fibre in her body thrilled;he could not but know the transfigured expression of her face.

  "I had no thought to hurt you," she said, and her voice trembled, and itwas not with fear or any pain. Wogan took a step towards her and checkedhimself. He spoke sharply between clenched teeth.

  "Lock your door," said he.

  The curtain between them was down. Wogan had patched and patched itbefore; but it was torn down now, and they had seen each other withoutso much as that patched semblance of a screen to veil their eyes.Clementina did not answer him or raise her head. She went quietly intoher room. Wogan did not move until she had locked the door.

  Then he disposed himself for the night. He sat down across the top stepof the stairs with his back propped against the passage wall. Facing himwas the door of Clementina's room, on his left hand the passage with theoil lamp burning on a bracket, stretched to the house-wall; on his rightthe stairs descended straight for some steps, then turned to the leftand ran down still within view to a point where again they turnedoutwards into the courtyard. Wogan saw to the priming of his pistols andlaid them beside him. He looked out to his right over the low-roofedbuildings opposite, and saw the black mountains with their glimmeringcrests, and just above one spur a star which flashed with a particularbrightness. He was very tired and very cold; he drew his cloak abouthim; he leaned back against the wall and watched that star. So long ashe saw that, he was awake, and therefore he watched it. At what timesleep overtook him he could never discover. It seemed to him always thathe did not even for a second lose sight of that star. Only it dilated,it grew brighter, it dropped towards earth, and he was not in any waysurprised. He was merely pleased with it for behaving in so attractiveand natural a way. Then, however, the strange thing happened. When thestar was hung in the air between earth and sky and nearer to the earth,it opened like a flower and disclosed in its bright heart the face of agirl, which was yet brighter. And that girl's face, with the broad lowbrows and the dark eyes and the smile which held all earth and much ofheaven, stooped and stooped out of fire through the cool dark towardshim until her lips touched his. It was then that he woke, quietly as washis wont, without any start, without opening his eyes, and at once hewas aware of someone breathing.

  He raised his eyelids imperceptibly and peered through his eyelashes. Hesaw close beside him the lower part of a woman's frock, and it was thefrock which Clementina wore. One wild question set his heart leapingwithin his breast. "Was there truth in the dream?" he asked himself; andwhile he was yet formulating the question, Clementina's breathing wassuddenly arrested. It seemed to him, too, from the little that he sawbetween his closed eyes, that she stiffened from head to foot. She stoodin that rigid attitude, very still. Something new had plainly occurred,something that brought with it a shock of surprise. Wogan, withoutmoving his head or opening his eyes a fraction wider, looked down thestaircase and saw just above the edge of one of the steep stairs a facewatching them,--a face with bright, birdlike eyes and an indescribableexpression of cunning.

  Wogan had need of all his self-control. He felt that his eyelids werefluttering on his cheeks, that his breath had stopped even asClementina's had. For the face which he saw was one quite familiar tohim, though never familiar with that expression. It was the face of aneasy-going gentleman who made up for the lack of his wit by theheartiness of his laugh, and to whom Wogan had been drawn because of hissimplicity. There was no simplicity in Henry Whittington's face now. Itremained above the edge of the step staring at them with a look ofcrafty triumph, a very image of intrigue. Then it disappeared silently.

  Wogan remembered the voice of the man who had spurred past the doorwayof the inn at Ala. He knew now why he had thought to recognise it. Theexclamation had been one of anger,--because he had seen Clementina andhimself in Italy? He had spurred onwards--towards Trent? There werethose six horses in the stables. Whittington's face had disappeared verysilently. "An honest man," thought Wogan, "does not take off his bootsbefore he mounts the stairs."

  Clementina was still standing at his side. Without changing his attitudehe rapped with his knuckles gently twice upon the boards of the stair.She turned towards him with a gasp of the breath. He rapped again twice,fearful lest she should speak to him. She understood that he had givenher the signal to go. She turned on her heel and slipped back into herroom.