the occasion of
ending a conversation which was growing with every minute more
embarrassing.

"I shall make haste to repair my defect," said he. "I beg you to present
my duty to her Highness and to request her to receive me to-morrow at
ten. By that, I will hope to have discovered a lodging more suitable to
her dignity."

Wogan made his prayer for the Pope's intervention on Jenny's behalf and
then returned to the Pilgrim Inn, dashed and fallen in spirit. He had
thought that their troubles were at an end, but here was a new
difficulty at which in truth he rather feared to guess. The Chevalier's
departure to Spain had been a puzzle to him before; he remembered now
that the Chevalier had agreed with reluctance to his enterprise, and had
never been more than lukewarm in its support. That reluctance, that
lukewarmness, he had attributed to a natural habit of discouragement;
but the evasiveness of Cardinal Origo seemed to propose a different
explanation. Wogan would not guess at it.

"The King is to marry the Princess," said he, fiercely. "I brought her
out of Innspruck to Bologna. The King must marry the Princess;" and,
quite unawares, he set off running towards the inn. As he drew near to
it, he heard a confused noise of shouting. He quickened his pace, and
rushing out of the mouth of a side street into the square where the inn
stood, came suddenly to a stop. The square was filled with a great mob
of people, and in face of the inn the crowd was so thick Wogan could
have walked upon the shoulders. Many of the people carried blazing
torches, which they waved in the air, dropping the burning resin upon
their companions; others threw their hats skywards; here were boys
beating drums, and grown men blowing upon toy trumpets; and all were
shouting and cheering with a deafening enthusiasm. The news of the
Princess's arrival had spread like wildfire through the town. Wogan's
spirits rose at a bound. Here was a welcome very different from the
Cardinal's. Wogan rejoiced in the good sense of the citizens of Bologna
who could appreciate the great qualities of his chosen woman. Their
enthusiasm did them credit; he could have embraced them one by one.

He strove to push his way towards the door, but he would hardly have
pierced through that throng had not a man by the light of a torch
recognised him and bawled out his name. He was lifted shoulder high in a
second; he was passed from hand to hand over the heads of the people; he
was