il we are ready?"

"To be sure I can. She shall never give a thought to any man of you but
myself."

O'Toole passed through a door at the bottom of the staircase into the
common-room of the inn. Wogan gently opened the big doors and dragged
the carriage out into the road. Gaydon with the horses galloped
silently up through the snow, and together the two men feverishly
harnessed them to the carriage. There were six for the carriage, and a
seventh for O'Toole to ride. The expedition which Wogan and Gaydon
showed was matched by the Princess. For while they were fastening the
last buckles, the door at the top of the stairs opened, and again that
night Clementina whispered,--

"I am ready."

"Come!" replied Wogan. She wore a scarlet cloak upon her shoulders, and
muffling it about her head she ran down with Mrs. Misset. Wogan opened
the lower door of the inn and called for O'Toole. O'Toole came running
out before Wogan had ended his words, and sprang into his saddle. Gaydon
was already on the box with the reins gathered in his hand. Wogan had
the carriage door open before Clementina had reached the foot of the
stairs; it was shut upon her and her companion almost before they were
aware they were within it; the carriage started almost before the door
was shut. Yet when it did start, Wogan was beside Gaydon upon the box.
Their movements, indeed, occurred with so exact a rapidity, that though
the hostess at once followed O'Toole to bid her guests farewell, when
she reached the big doors she saw only the back of the carriage lurching
through the ruts of snow.

"Quick!" cried Wogan; "we have lost too much time."

"A bare twenty minutes," said Gaydon.

"A good twelve hours," said Wogan.

Gaydon lashed the horses into a gallop, the horses strained at their
collars, the carriage raced out of the town and up the slopes of the
Brenner. The princess Clementina had been rescued from her prison.

"But we must keep her free!" cried Wogan, as he blew through his gloves
upon his frozen fingers. "Faster! Faster!"

The incline was steep, the snow clogged the wheels, the horses sank deep
in it. Gaydon might ply his whip as he would, the carriage might lurch
and leap from side to side; the pace was all too slow for Wogan.

"We have lost twelve hours," he cried. "Oh, would to God we were come to
Italy!" And turning backwards he strained his eyes down through the
darkness and snow to the hidden roofs of Innspruck, almost fearing to
s