. Then she
stopped and said,--

"How long is it since you woke?"

Wogan was taken by surprise.

"I should never have slept at all," stammered he. "I promised myself
that. Not a wink of sleep betwixt Innspruck and Italy; and here was I
fast as a log this side of Trent. I think our postillion sleeps too;"
and letting down the window he quietly called Misset.

"We have fresh relays," said he, "and we travel at a snail's-pace."

"The relays are only fresh to us," returned Misset. "We can go no
faster. There is someone ahead with three stages' start of us,--someone
of importance, it would seem, and who travels with a retinue, for he
takes all the horses at each stage."

Wogan thrust his head out of the window. There was no doubt of it; the
horses lagged. In this hurried flight the most trifling hindrance was a
monumental danger, and this was no trifling hindrance. For the hue and
cry was most certainly raised behind them; the pursuit from Innspruck
had begun twelve hours since, on the most favourable reckoning. At any
moment they might hear the jingle of a horse's harness on the road
behind. And now here was a man with a great retinue blocking their way
in front.

"We can do no more, but make a fight of it in the end," said he. "They
may be few who follow us. But who is he ahead?"

Misset did not know.

"I can tell you," said Clementina, with a slight hesitation. "It is the
Prince of Baden, and he travels to Italy."

Wogan remembered a certain letter which his King had written to him from
Rome; and the hesitation in the girl's voice told him the rest of the
story. Wogan would have given much to have had his fingers about the
scruff of that pompous gentleman's neck with the precipice handy at his
feet. It was intolerable that the fellow should pester the Princess in
prison and hinder her flight when she had escaped from it.

"Well, we can do no more," said he, and he drew up the window. Neither
Gaydon nor Mrs. Misset were awakened; Clementina and Wogan were alone in
the darkness.

She leaned forward to him and said in a low voice,--

"Tell me of the King. I shall make mistakes in this new world. Will he
have patience with me while I learn?"

She had spoken upon the same strain in the darkness of the staircase
only the night before. Wogan gently laughed her fears aside.

"I will tell you the truest thing about the King. He needs you at his
side. For all his friends, he is at heart a lonely man, throned upon