They reached Ala towards two o'clock of the morning. The town had some
reputation in those days for its velvets and silks, and Wogan made no
doubt that somewhere he would procure a carriage to convey them the
necessary five miles into Venetian territory. The Prince of Baden was
still ahead of them, however. The inn of "The Golden Lion" had not a
single horse fit for their use in its stables. Wogan, however, obtained
there a few likely addresses and set out alone upon his search. He
returned in a couple of hours with a little two-wheeled cart drawn by a
pony, and sent word within that he was ready. Clementina herself with
her hood thrown back from her face came out to him at the door. An oil
lamp swung in the passage and lit up her face. Wogan could see that the
face was grave and anxious.

"Your Highness and Mrs. Misset can ride in the cart. It has no springs,
to be sure, and may shake to pieces like plaster. But if it carries you
five miles, it will serve. Misset and I can run by the side."

"But Lucy Misset must not go," said Clementina. "She is ill, and no
wonder. She must not take one step more to-night. There would be great
danger, and indeed she has endured enough for me." The gravity of the
girl's face, as much as her words, convinced Wogan that here was no
occasion for encouragement or resistance. He said with some
embarrassment,-"Yet we cannot leave her here alone; and of us two men, her husband must
stay with her."