"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 rooms
upon the first floor."
The landlady was no less pleased than Mr. Wogan. She had a thought that
they were a runaway couple and served them breakfast in a little parlour
up the stairs with many sly and confusing allusions. She became
confused, however, when after breakfast Clementina withdrew to bed, and
Wogan sauntered out into the high-road, where he sat himself down on a
bank to watch for Captain Misset. All day he sat resolutely with his
back towards the inn. The landlady inferred that here were lovers
quarrelling, and she was yet more convinced of it when she entered the
parlour in the afternoon to lay the table for dinner and saw Clementina
standing 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 pleasure
passed down the road into Italy. Mr. Wogan saw them not, or saw them
with unseeing eyes. His eyes were turned inwards, and he gazed at a
picture that his heart held of a room in that inn behind him, where
after all her dangers and fatigues a woman slept in peace. Towards
evening fewer travellers passed by, but there came one party of six
well-mounted men whose leader suddenly bowed his head down upon his
horse's neck as he rode past. Wogan had preached a sermon on the
carelessness which comes with danger's diminutions, but he was very
tired. The head was nodding; the blow might fall from nowhere, and he
not know.
At nightfall he returned and mounted to the parlour, where Clementina
awaited him.
"There is no sign of Captain Misset," said he.
Wogan was puzzled by the way in which Clementina received the news. For
a moment he thought that her eyes lightened, and that she was glad; then
it seemed to him that her eyes clouded and suddenly as if with pain. Nor
was her voice a guide to him, for she spoke her simple question without
significance,-"Must we wait, then, till the morning?"
"There is a chance that they may come before the morning. I will watch
on the top stair, and if they come I will make bold to wake your
Highness."
Their hostess upon this brought their supper into the room, and Wogan
became at once aware of a change in her demeanour. She no longer
embarrassed them with her patronage, nor did she continue her sly
allusions to the escapades of lovers. On the contrary, she was of an
extreme deference. Under the deference, too, Wogan seemed to remark a
certain excitement.