nd few people were abroad. At a little distance to
his left he saw above the housetops a glow of light in the air which
marked the Opera-House. Wogan avoided it; he kept again to the alleys
and emerged before the Chevalier's lodging. This he passed, but a
hundred yards farther on he turned down a side street and doubled back
upon his steps along a little byway between small houses. The line of
houses, however, at one point was broken by a garden wall. Under this
wall Wogan waited until a clock struck ten, and while the clock was
still striking he heard on the other side of the wall the brushing of
footsteps amongst leaves and grass. Wogan tapped gently on a little door
in the wall. It was opened no less gently, and Edgar the secretary
admitted him, led him across the garden and up a narrow flight of stairs
into a small lighted cabinet. Two men were waiting in that room. One of
them wore the scarlet robe, an old man with white hair and a broad
bucolic face, whom Wogan knew for the Pope's Legate, Cardinal Origo. The
slender figure of the other, clad all in black but for the blue ribbon
of the Garter across his breast, brought Wogan to his knee.

Wogan held out the Pope's procuration to the Chevalier, who took it and
devoutly kissed the signature. Then he gave his hand to Wogan with a
smile of friendliness.

"You have outsped your time by two days, Mr. Wogan. That is unwise,
since it may lead us to expect again the impossible of you. But here,
alas, your speed for once brings us no profit. You have heard, no doubt.
Her Highness the Princess Clementina is held at Innspruck in prison."

Wogan rose to his feet.

"Prisons, sir," he said quietly, "have been broken before to-day. I
myself was once put to that necessity." The words took the Chevalier
completely by surprise. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Wogan.

"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,