Clementina - Page 122/200

"Let us try if we can get stronger horses here," said he, and he got

out. Gaydon woke up with surprising alacrity.

"I must have fallen asleep," said he. "I beseech your Highness's

forgiveness; I have slept this long while." It was no business of his if

Wogan chose to attribute his own escape from Newgate as an exploit of

the King's. The story was a familiar one at Bologna, whither they were

hurrying; it was sufficiently known that Charles Wogan was its hero. All

this was Wogan's business, not Gaydon's. Nor had Gaydon anything to do

with any city of dreams or with any lady that might ride into it, or

with any black horse that chanced to carry her. Poets no doubt talked

that way. It was their business. Gaydon was not sorry that he had slept

so heartily through those last stages. He got down from the carriage and

met Wogan coming from the inn with a face of dismay.

"We are stopped here. There is no help for it. We have gained on the

Prince of Baden, who is no more than two stages ahead. The relays which

carried him from here to the next stage have only this instant come

back. They are too tired to move. So we must stay until they are

refreshed. And we are still three posts this side of Trent!" he cried.

"I would not mind were Trent behind us. But there's no help for it. I

have hired a room where the Countess and her niece can sleep until such

time as we can start."

Clementina and Mrs. Misset descended and supped in company with Gaydon

and Wogan, while Misset and O'Toole waited upon them as servants. It was

a silent sort of supper, very different from the meal they had made that

morning. For though the fare was better, it lacked the exhilaration.

This delay weighed heavily upon them all. For the country was now for a

sure thing raised behind them, and if they had gained on the Prince of

Baden, their pursuers had no less certainly gained on them.

"Would we were t'other side of Trent!" exclaimed Wogan; and looking up

he saw that Clementina was watching him with a strange intentness. Her

eyes were on him again while they sat at supper; and when he led her to

the door of her room and she gave him her hand, she stood for a little

while looking deep into his eyes. And though she had much need of sleep,

when she had got into the room and the door was closed behind her, she

remained staring at the logs of the fire.