"The King is to marry the Princess," said he, fiercely. "I brought her
out of Innspruck to Bologna. The King must marry the Princess;" and,
quite unawares, he set off running towards the inn. As he drew near to
it, he heard a confused noise of shouting. He quickened his pace, and
rushing out of the mouth of a side street into the square where the inn
stood, came suddenly to a stop. The square was filled with a great mob
of people, and in face of the inn the crowd was so thick Wogan could
have walked upon the shoulders. Many of the people carried blazing
torches, which they waved in the air, dropping the burning resin upon
their companions; others threw their hats skywards; here were boys
beating drums, and grown men blowing upon toy trumpets; and all were
shouting and cheering with a deafening enthusiasm. The news of the
Princess's arrival had spread like wildfire through the town. Wogan's
spirits rose at a bound. Here was a welcome very different from the
Cardinal's. Wogan rejoiced in the good sense of the citizens of Bologna
who could appreciate the great qualities of his chosen woman. Their
enthusiasm did them credit; he could have embraced them one by one.
He strove to push his way towards the door, but he would hardly have
pierced through that throng had not a man by the light of a torch
recognised him and bawled out his name. He was lifted shoulder high in a
second; he was passed from hand to hand over the heads of the people; he
was set tenderly down in the very doorway of the Pilgrim Inn, and he
found Clementina at the window of an unlighted room gazing unperceived
at the throng.
"Here's a true welcome, madam," said he, cordially, with his thoughts
away upon that bluff of hillside where the acclamations had seemed so
distant and unreal. It is possible that they seemed of small account to
Clementina now, for though they rang in ears and were visible to her
eyes, she sat quite unmoved by them.
"This is one tiny square in a little town," he continued. "But its
shouts will ring across Europe;" and she turned her head to him and said
quietly,-"The King is still in Spain, is he not?"
Wogan's enthusiasm was quenched in alarm. Her voice had rung, for all
its quietude, with pride. What if she guessed what he for one would not
let his wildest fancy dwell upon? Wogan repeated to himself the resolve
which he had made, though with an alteration. "The King must marry the
Princess," he had said; now he said, "The Princess must marry the King."