"An army could not rescue her," he said.
"No, but one man might."
"You?" he exclaimed. He pressed down the shade of the lamp to throw the
light fully upon Wogan's face. "It is impossible!"
"Then I beg your Majesty to expect the impossible again."
The Chevalier drew his hand across his eyes and stared afresh at Wogan.
The audacity of the exploit and the imperturbable manner of its proposal
caught his breath away. He rose from his chair and took a turn or two
across the room.
Wogan watched his every gesture. It would be difficult he knew to wring
the permission he needed from his dejected master, and his unruffled
demeanour was a calculated means of persuasion. An air of confidence was
the first requisite. In reality, however, Wogan was not troubled at this
moment by any thought of failure. It was not that he had any plan in his
head; but he was fired with a conviction that somehow this chosen woman
was not to be wasted, that some day, released by some means in spite of
all the pressure English Ministers could bring upon the Emperor, she
would come riding into Bologna.
The Chevalier paused in his walk and looked towards the Cardinal.
"What does your Eminence say?"
"That to the old the impulsiveness of youth is eternally charming," said
the Cardinal, with a foppish delicacy of speaking in an odd contrast to
his person.
Mr. Wogan understood that he had a second antagonist.
"I am not a youth, your Eminence," he exclaimed with all the indignation
of twenty-seven years. "I am a man."
"But an Irishman, and that spells youth. You write poetry too, I
believe, Mr. Wogan. It is a heady practice."
Wogan made no answer, though the words stung. An argument with the
Cardinal would be sure to ruin his chance of obtaining the Chevalier's
consent. He merely bowed to the Cardinal and waited for the Chevalier to
speak.
"Look you, Mr. Wogan; while the Emperor's at war with Spain, while
England's fleet could strip him of Sicily, he's England's henchman. He
dare not let the Princess go. We know it. General Heister, the Governor
of Innspruck, is under pain of death to hold her safe."
"But, sir, would the world stop if General Heister died?"
"A German scaffold if you fail."
"In the matter of scaffolds I have no leaning towards any one
nationality."
The Cardinal smiled. He liked a man of spirit, though he might think him
absurd. The Chevalier resumed his restless pacing to and fro.