The man, as Gaydon had remarked, was in a mighty ill-humour; his clothes and his face were splashed with mud, and he seemed, moreover, in the last stage of exhaustion.

For though he bawled for the landlord it was in a weak, hoarse voice, which did not reach beyond the door.
Misset looked at him with sympathy.
"You have no doubt come far," said he; "and the landlord's a laggard.
Here's something that may comfort you till he comes;" and he filled a glass half full with red Tyrol wine from the bottle at his elbow.
The man thanked him and advanced to the table.
"It is a raw hot wine," continued Misset, "and goes better with water;" and he filled up the glass from the water-jug.

The courier reached out his hand for it.
"I am the thirstiest man in all Germany," said he, and he took a gulp of the wine and immediately fell to spluttering.
"Save us," said he, "but this wine is devilishly strong." "Try some more water," said Misset, and again he filled up the glass.
The courier drank it all in a single draught, and stood winking his eyes and shaking his head.
"That warms a man," said he.

"It does one good;" and again he called for the landlord, and this time in a strange voice.

The landlord still lagged, however, and Misset did not doubt that Wogan had found a means to detain him.