osition was not
meanwhile one that suited either her dignity or the love the King had
for her, a marriage by proxy should take place at Bologna. The Chevalier
added that he had written to Cardinal Origo to make the necessary
arrangements for the ceremony, and he appointed herewith Mr. Charles
Wogan to act as his proxy, in recognition of his great services.

Wogan felt a natural distaste for the part he was to take in the
ceremony. To stand up before the Cardinal and take Clementina's hand in
his, and speak another's marriage vows and receive hers as another's
deputy,--there was a certain mockery in the situation for which he had
no liking. The memory of the cabin on the mountain-side was something
too near. But, at all events, the King was to marry the Princess, and
Wogan's distaste was swallowed up in a great relief. There would be no
laughter rippling over Europe like the wind over a field of corn. He
stood by his window in the spring sunshine with a great contentment of
spirit, and then there came a loud rapping on his door.

He caught his breath; he grew white with a sudden fear; you would have
thought it was his heart that was knocked upon. For there was another
side to the business. The King would marry the Princess; but how would
the Princess take this marriage by proxy and the King's continued
absence? She had her pride, as he knew well. The knocking was repeated.
Wogan in a voice of suspense bade his visitor enter. The visitor was one
of her Highness's new servants. "Without a doubt," thought Wogan, "she
has received a letter by the same messenger who brought me mine."

The servant handed him a note from the Princess, begging him to attend
on her at once. "She must marry the King," said Wogan to himself. He
took his hat and cane, and followed the servant into the street.

CHAPTER XXII

Wogan was guided through the streets to the mouth of a blind alley, at
the bottom of which rose a high garden wall, and over the wall the
smoking chimneys of a house among the tops of many trees freshly green,
which shivered in the breeze and shook the sunlight from their leaves.
This alley, from the first day when the Princess came to lodge in the
house, had worn to Wogan a familiar air; and this morning, as he
pondered dismally whether, after all, those laborious months since he
had ridden hopefully out of Bologna to Ohlau were to bear no fruit, he
chanced to remember why. He had passed that alley at the moment of g