Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
For a second time that night they stood side by side looking upon darkness and the spangled sky. Only there was no courtyard with its signs of habitation. Clementina drew herself away suddenly from the sill. Wogan at once copied her example. "You saw ?" he began. "No one," said she, bending her dark eyes full upon him. "Will you close the shutter?" Wogan drew back instinctively.
But I have gone through so much these last three nights that I can barely stand;" and dropping into a chair he dragged it up to the door of the stove, and crouched there shivering. The old man closed the window. "I am Count Otto von Ahlen, and in my house you are safe as you are welcome." He went to a sideboard, and filling a glass carried it to Wogan. The liquor was brandy.
He was the only man whom Wogan had seen laugh since he drove into Bologna, and he drew a great breath of hope. "Then nothing has happened, Whittington? There is no bad news?" "There is news so bad, my friend, that you might have jogged here on a mule and still have lost no time. Your hurry is clean wasted," answered Whittington.
I beg you to remain on the step on which you stand. For if you mount one more, you will put me to the inconvenience of drawing my sword." Wogan leaned back idly against the wall. The Princess should now be on the road and past the inn unless perhaps Whittington was at watch beneath the windows. That did not seem likely, however. Whittington would work in the dark and not risk detection.
"No," said Wogan; "for there is no lady whom I love." There Wogan should have ended, but he added rather sadly, "Nor is there like to be." "Then I am sure," said Clementina. "Sure that I speak truth?" "No, sure that you mislead me. It is not kind; for here perhaps I might give you some small token of my gratitude, would you but let me. Oh, it is no matter. I shall find out who the lady is.
The summons surprised them both, so hotly had they been engaged, so unaware were they of the noise which their fall had made. Wogan felt his assailant's hand relax and heard him say in a low muffled voice, "It is nothing. Go to bed! I fell over a chair in the dark." That momentary relaxation was, he knew, his last chance.
"My man," said he, "will take your horse to the stable;" and the fellow who had guided Wogan led the horse off. "Oh, is he your man?" said Wogan. "Ah!" And he followed the landlord into the house. It was not only the sign-board which had been newly painted, for in the narrow passage the landlord stopped Wogan. "Have a care, sir," said he; "the walls are wet.
The man's expression was so pitiable, his heavy cheeks hung in such despairing folds, that Wogan was stirred to laughter. "Well, you have put me to a deal of inconvenience," said he; "but I will be merciful, being strong, being most extraordinary strong. I'll send you back to your master the Emperor with a message from me that four men are no manner of use at all. Come in here for a bit."
Königsmarck was by some mysterious alchemy becoming incorporate with him. The voice which spoke and warned and menaced was as much his as Königsmarck's. The old Count opened the door and heard Wogan muttering to himself as he crouched over the fire. The Count carried a basin of water in his hand and a sponge and some linen. He insisted upon washing Wogan's wounds and dressing them in a simple way.
The village was a straggling half-mile of low cottages, lost as it were on the level of a wide plain. Across this plain, bare but for a few lines of poplars and stunted willow-trees, Wogan had ridden all the afternoon; and so little did the thatched cottages break the monotony of the plain's appearance, that though he had had the village within his vision all that while, he came upon it unawares.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking