Wogan closed the window cautiously. The snow had drifted through and lay
melting in a heap beneath the sill. He drew the curtain across the
embrasure, and then he crossed to the bedroom door.
"Jenny," he whispered, "are you in bed?"
"Yes."
"Lie close! Do not show your face nor speak. Only groan, and groan most
delicately, or we are lost."
He closed the door upon Jenny, and turning about came face to face with
the Princess-mother. She stood confronting him, a finger on her lips,
and terror in her eyes; and he heard the street-door open and clang to
below.
"The magistrate!" she whispered.
"Courage, your Highness. Keep them from the bed! Say that her eyes are
weak and cannot bear the light."
He slipped behind the curtain into the embrasure, picturing to himself
the disposition of the room, lest he should have left behind a trifle to
betray him. He had in a supreme degree that gift of recollection which
takes the form of a mental vision. He did not have to count over the
details of the room; he summoned a picture of it to his mind, and saw
it and its contents from corner to corner. And thus while the footsteps
yet sounded on the stair, he saw Clementina's bundle lying forgotten on
a couch. He darted from his hiding-place, seized it, and ran back. He
had just sufficient and not a second more time, for the curtain had not
ceased to swing when the magistrate knocked, and without waiting for an
answer entered. He was followed by two soldiers, and these he ordered to
wait without the door.
"Your Highness," he said in a polite voice, and stopped abruptly. It
seemed to Wogan behind the curtain that his heart stopped at the same
moment and with no less abruptness. There was no evidence of
Clementina's flight to justify that sudden silence. Then he grew faint,
as it occurred to him that he had made Lady Featherstone's
mistake,--that his boot protruded into the room. He clenched his teeth,
expecting a swift step and the curtain to be torn aside. The window was
shut; he would never have time to open it and leap out and take his
chance with the sentry underneath. He was caught in a trap, and
Clementina waited for him in the avenue, under the fourth tree. All was
lost, it seemed, and by his own folly, his own confidence. Had he only
told her of the tavern under the city wall, where the carriage stood
with its horses harnessed in the shafts, she might still have escaped,
though he was trapped. The sweat passed down his face. Yet no swift step
was taken, nor was the curtain torn aside.