ught his
way to the roofs, and on the roofs he played such a game of
hide-and-seek among the chimney-tops--" Wogan broke off from his story
with a clear thrill of laughter; it was a laugh of enjoyment at a
pleasing recollection. Then he suddenly flung himself down on his knee
at the feet of his sovereign. "Give me leave, your Majesty," he cried
passionately. "Let me go upon this errand. If I fail, if the scaffold's
dressed for me, why where's the harm? Your Majesty loses one servant out
of his many. Whereas, if I win--" and he drew a long breath. "Aye, and I
shall win! There's the Princess, too, a prisoner. Sir, she has ventured
much. I beg you give me leave."

The Chevalier laid his hand gently upon Wogan's shoulder, but he did not
assent. He looked again doubtfully to the Cardinal, who said with his
pleasant smile, "I will wager Mr. Wogan a box at the Opera on the first
night that he returns, that he will return empty-handed."

Wogan rose to his feet and replied good-humouredly, "It's a wager I
take the more readily in that your Eminence cannot win, though you may
lose. For if I return empty-handed, upon my honour I'll not return at
all."

The Cardinal condescended to laugh. Mr. Wogan laughed too. He had good
reason, for here was his Eminence in a kindly temper and the Chevalier
warming out of his melancholy. And, indeed, while he was still laughing
the Chevalier caught him by the arm as a friend might do, and in an
outburst of confidence, very rare with him, he said, "I would that I
could laugh so. You and Whittington, I do envy you. An honest laugh,
there's the purge for melancholy. But I cannot compass it," and he
turned away.

"Sure, sir, you'll put us all to shame when I bring her Royal Highness
out of Innspruck."

"Oh, that!" said the Chevalier, as though for the moment he had
forgotten. "It is impossible," and the phrase was spoken now in an
accent of hesitation. Moreover, he sat down at a table, and drawing a
sheet of paper written over with memoranda, he began to read aloud with
a glance towards Wogan at the end of each sentence.

"The house stands in the _faubourgs_ of Innspruck. There is an avenue of
trees in front of the house; on the opposite side of the avenue there is
a tavern with the sign of 'The White Chamois.'"

Wogan committed the words to memory.

"The Princess and her mother," continued the Chevalier, "are imprisoned
in the east side of the house."

"And how guarded, sir?" asked Wogan