a good height from the ground; there was no stanchion or projection in
the wall, and it seemed impossible that a man could get his shoulders
through the opening. Wogan opened the window to try it, and the sound of
someone running came to his ears.

"Oho!" said he, but he said it to himself, "here's a man in a mighty
hurry."

A mist was rising from the ground; the evening, too, was dark. Wogan
could see no one in the road below, but he heard the footsteps
diminishing into a faint patter. Then they ceased altogether. The man
who ran was running in the direction of Stuttgart.

"Yes, your garret will do," said Wogan, in quite a different voice. He
had begun to think that this night he would sleep, and he realised now
that he must not. The man might be running on his own business, but this
was the last night before Wogan would reach his friends. Stuttgart was
only three miles away. He could take no risks, and so he must stay
awake with his sword upon his knees. Had his horse been able to carry
him farther, he would have ridden on, but the horse was even more weary
than its master. Besides, the narrow staircase made his room an
excellent place to defend.

"Get my supper," said he, "for I am very tired."

"Will your Excellency sup here?" asked the landlord.

"By no manner of means," returned Wogan, who had it in his mind to spy
out the land. "I detest nothing so much as my own company."