O'Toole galloped off, and Gaydon drove the carriage to the side of the
road. There was nothing to do but to wait, and they waited in silence,
counting up the chances. There could be no doubt that the landlady, if
once she discovered the jewels hidden away in a common packet of
clothing, must suspect the travellers who had left them behind. She
would be terrified by their value; she would be afraid to retain them
lest harm should come to her; and all Innspruck would be upon the
fugitives' heels. They waited for half an hour,--thirty minutes of gloom
and despair. Clementina wept over this new danger which her comrades
ran; Mrs. Misset wept for that her negligence was to blame; Gaydon sat
on the box in the falling snow with his arms crossed upon his breast,
and felt his head already loose upon his shoulders. The only one of the
party who had any comfort of that half-hour was Wogan. For he had been
wrong,--the chosen woman had no wish to glitter at all costs, though, to
be sure, she could not help glittering with the refulgence of her great
merits. His idol had no blemish. Wogan paced up and down the road, while
he listened for O'Toole's return, and that thought cheated the time for
him. At last he heard very faintly the sound of galloping hoofs below
him on the road. He ran back to Gaydon.