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.

"It is impossible."

But he seemed to utter the phrase with less decision this second time.
Wogan pressed his advantage at the expense of his modesty.

"Sir, will you allow me to tell you a story,--a story of an impossible
escape from Newgate in the heart of London by a man in fetters? There
were nine grenadiers with loaded muskets standing over him. There were
two courtyards to cross, two walls to climb, and beyond the walls the
unfriendly streets. The man hoodwinked his sentries, climbed his two
walls, crossed the unfriendly streets, and took refuge in a cellar,
where he was discovered. From the cellar in broad daylight he fo