cipher and hand; it asked anxiously for news and gave some. Wogan had
had occasion before to learn that cipher by heart. He stood by the
window and spelled the meaning. Then he turned to go down; but at the
door his foot slipped upon the polished boards, and he stumbled onto his
knee. He picked himself up, and thinking no more of the matter rejoined
the company in a room where the Countess of Berg was playing upon a
harp.

"The King," said Wogan, drawing the Prince apart, "leaves Bologna for
Rome."

"So the letter came from him?" asked the Prince, with an eagerness which
could not but seem hopeful to his companion.

"And in his own hand," replied Wogan.

The Prince shuffled and hesitated as though he was curious to hear
particulars. Wogan thought it wise to provoke his curiosity by
disregarding it. It seemed that there was wisdom in his reticence, for a
little later the Prince took him aside while the Countess of Berg was
still playing upon her harp, and said,--

"Single-handed you could do nothing. You would need friends."

Wogan took a slip of paper from his pocket and gave it to the Prince.

"On that slip," said he, "I wrote down the names of all the friends
whom I could trust, and by the side of the names the places where I
could lay my hands upon them. One after the other I erased the names
until only three remained."