“Sir, I do not doubt it,” said Wogan.

“But I will not hinder you from forthwith immediately and at once incorporating with your most particular and inestimable treasures this jewel, this turquoise of heaven’s own charming blue, encased and decorated with gold.”

The treasurer drew the turquoise from his pocket.  It was of the size of an egg.  He placed it in Wogan’s hand, who gently returned it.

“I cannot take it,” said he.

“Gemini!” cried the treasurer.  “But it is more than a turquoise, Mr. Warner.  Jewellers have delved in it.  It has become subservient to man’s necessities.  It is a snuff-box.”

“I cannot take it.”

“King John of Poland, he whom the vulgar call Glorious John, did rescue and enlarge it from its slavery to the Grand Vizier of Turkey at the great battle of Vienna.  There is no other in the world—­”

Wogan cut the treasurer short.

“You will take it again to his Highness.  You will express to him my gratitude for his kindness, and you will say furthermore these words:  ’Mr. Warner cannot carry back into Italy a present for himself and a refusal for his Prince.’”

Wogan spoke with so much dignity that the treasurer had no words to answer him.  He stood utterly bewildered; he stared at the jewel.

“Here is a quandary!” he exclaimed.  “I do declare every circumstance of me trembles,” and shaking his head he went away.  But in a little he came again.

“His Highness distinguishes you, Mr. Warner, with imperishable honours.  His Highness solicits your company to a solitary dinner.  You shall dine with him alone.  His presence and unfettered conversation shall season your soup and be the condiments of your meat.”

Wogan’s heart jumped.  There could be only one reason for so unusual an invitation on such a day, and he was not mistaken; for as soon as the Prince was served in a little room, he dismissed the lackeys and presented again the turquoise snuff-box with his own hands.

“See, Mr. Wogan, your persuasions and your conduct have gained me over,” said he.  “Your refusal of this bagatelle assures me of your honour.  I trust myself entirely to your discretion; I confide my beloved daughter to your care.  Take from my hands the gift you refused this morning, and be assured that no prince ever gave to any man such full powers as I will give to you to-night.”

Wogan’s gratitude wellnigh overcame him.  The thing that he had worked for and almost despaired of had come to pass.  For a while he could not speak; he flung himself upon his knees and kissed the Prince’s hand.  That very night he received the letter giving him full powers, and the next morning he drove off in a carriage of his Highness drawn by six Polish horses towards the town of Strahlen on the road to Prague.  At Strahlen he stayed a day, feigning a malady, and sent the carriage back.  The following day, however, he took horse, and riding along by-roads and lanes avoided Prague and hurried towards Schlestadt.