“We shall be historical,” said O’Toole.  “It is my one ambition.  I want to figure in the history-books and be a great plague and nuisance to children at school.  I would sooner be cursed daily by schoolboys than have any number of golden statues in galleries.  It means the more solid reputation;” and then he became silent.  Gaydon had, besides his joy at the rescue of Clementina, a private satisfaction that matters which were none of his business had had no uncomfortable issue.  Misset, too, was thankful for that his wife had come safely to the journey’s end.  O’Toole alone had a weight upon his mind; and when Gaydon said, “Well, we may go to bed and sleep without alarms till sundown to-morrow,” he remarked,—­

“There’s Jenny.  It was on my account she ventured with us.”

“That’s true,” said Wogan; “but we shall put an end to her captivity, now we are safe at Bologna.  I have friends here who can serve me so far, I have no doubt.”

O’Toole was willing to leave the matter in Wogan’s hands.  If Wogan once pledged himself to Jenny’s release, why, Jenny was released; and he went to bed now with a quite equable mind.  Wogan hurried off to the palace of the Cardinal Origo, whom he found sitting at his supper.  The Cardinal welcomed Wogan back very warmly.

“I trust, your Eminence,” said Wogan, “that Farini is now at Bologna.”

“You come in the nick of time,” replied the Cardinal.  “This is his last week.  There is a great demand for the seats; but you will see to it, Mr. Wogan, that the box is in the first tier.”

“There was to be a dinner, too, if I recollect aright.  I have not dined for days.  Your Eminence, I shall be extraordinarily hungry.”

“You will order what you will, Mr. Wogan.  I am a man of a small appetite and have no preferences.”

“Your Eminence’s cook will be the better judge of what is seasonable.  Your Eminence will be the more likely to secure the box in the first tier.  Shall we fix a day?  To-morrow, if it please you.  To-morrow I shall have the honour, then, to be your Eminence’s guest.”

The Cardinal started up from the table and stared at his visitor.

“You are jesting,” said he.

“So little,” replied Wogan, “that her Highness, the Princess Clementina, is now at the Pilgrim Inn at Bologna.”

“In Bologna!” cried the Cardinal; and he stood frowning in a great perturbation of spirit.  “This is great news,” he said, but in a doubtful voice which Wogan did not understand.  “This is great news, to be sure;” and he took a turn or two across the room.

“Not wholly pleasant news, one might almost think,” said Wogan, in some perplexity.

“Never was better news,” exclaimed the Cardinal, hastily,—­a trifle too hastily, it seemed to Wogan.  “But it surprises one.  Even the King did not expect this most desirable issue.  For the King’s in Spain.  It is that which troubles me.  Her Highness comes to Bologna, and the King’s in Spain.”