"I promised myself that.

Not a wink of sleep betwixt Innspruck and Italy; and here was I fast as a log this side of Trent.

I think our postillion sleeps too;" and letting down the window he quietly called Misset.
"We have fresh relays," said he, "and we travel at a snail's-pace." "The relays are only fresh to us," returned Misset.

"We can go no faster.

There is someone ahead with three stages' start of us,--someone of importance, it would seem, and who travels with a retinue, for he takes all the horses at each stage." Wogan thrust his head out of the window.