Wogan remembered the voice of the man who had spurred past the doorway of the inn at Ala.  He knew now why he had thought to recognise it.  The exclamation had been one of anger,—­because he had seen Clementina and himself in Italy?  He had spurred onwards—­towards Trent?  There were those six horses in the stables.  Whittington’s face had disappeared very silently.  “An honest man,” thought Wogan, “does not take off his boots before he mounts the stairs.”

Clementina was still standing at his side.  Without changing his attitude he rapped with his knuckles gently twice upon the boards of the stair.  She turned towards him with a gasp of the breath.  He rapped again twice, fearful lest she should speak to him.  She understood that he had given her the signal to go.  She turned on her heel and slipped back into her room.

CHAPTER XIX

Wogan did not move.  In a few minutes he heard voices whispering in the courtyard below.  By that time the Princess should have escaped into the thicket.  The stairs creaked, and again he saw a face over the edge of a step.  It was the flabby face of a stranger, who turned and whispered in German to others behind him.  The face rose; a pair of shoulders, a portly body, and a pair of unbooted legs became visible.  The man carried a drawn sword; between his closed eyelashes Wogan saw that four others with the like arms followed.  There should have been six; but the sixth was Harry Whittington, who, to be sure, was not likely to show himself to Wogan awake.  The five men passed the first turn of the stairs without noise.  Wogan was very well pleased with their noiselessness.  Men without boots to their feet were at a very great disadvantage when it came to a fight.  He allowed them to come up to the second turn, he allowed the leader to ascend the last straight flight until he was almost within sword-reach, and then he quietly rose to his feet.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “I grieve to disappoint you; but I have hired this lodging for the night.”

The leader stopped, discountenanced, and leaned back against his followers.  “You are awake?” he stammered.

“It is a habit of mine.”

The leader puffed out his cheeks and assumed an appearance of dignity.

“Then we are saved some loss of time.  For we were coming to awake you.”

“It was on that account, no doubt,” said Wogan, folding his arms, “that you have all taken off your boots.  But, pardon me, your four friends behind appear in spite of what I have said to be thrusting you forward.  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.  The leader of the four had stepped back at Wogan’s words, but he said very bravely,—­