deed needed his friends.

CHAPTER IX

The next morning Wogan was tossing from side to side in a high fever.
The fever itself was of no great importance, but it had consequences of
a world-wide influence, for it left Wogan weak and tied to his bed; so
that it was Gaydon who travelled to Rome and obtained the Pope's
passport. Gaydon consequently saw what otherwise Wogan would have seen;
and Gaydon, the cautious, prudent Gaydon, was careful to avoid making an
inopportune discovery, whereas Wogan would never have rested until he
had made it.

Gaydon stayed in Rome a week, lying snug and close in a lodging only one
street removed from that house upon the Tiber where his King lived.
Secrets had a way of leaking out, and Gaydon was determined that this
one should not through any inattention of his. He therefore never went
abroad until dark, and even then kept aloof from the house which
overlooked the Tiber. His business he conducted through his servant,
sending him to and fro between Edgar, the secretary, and himself. One
audience of his King alone he asked, and that was to be granted him on
the day of his departure from Rome.

Thus the time hung very heavily upon him. From daybreak to dusk he was
cooped within a little insignificant room which looked out upon a little
insignificant street. His window, however, though it promised little
diversion, was his one resource. Gaydon was a man of observation, and
found a pleasure in guessing at this and that person's business from his
appearance, his dress, and whether he went fast or slow. So he sat
steadily at his window, and after a day or two had passed he began to be
puzzled. The moment he was puzzled he became interested. On the second
day he drew his chair a little distance back from the window and
watched. On the third day he drew his chair close to the window, but at
the side and against the wall. In this way he could see everything that
happened and everyone who passed, and yet remain himself unobserved.

Almost opposite to his window stood a small mean house fallen into
neglect and disrepair. The windows were curtained with dust, many of the
panes were broken, the shutters hung upon broken hinges, the paint was
peeling from the door. The house had the most melancholy aspect of long
disuse. It seemed to belong to no one and to be crumbling pitifully to
ruin like an aged man who has no friends. Yet this house had its uses,
which Gaydon could not but perceive were