One man laughed out at the Princess and the comical figure she made with her scarlet cloak drawn tight about her face.

Wogan himself had bought that cloak in Strasbourg to guard his Princess from the cold of the Brenner, and guessed what discomfort its ermine lining must now be costing her.

And this lout dared to laugh and make her, this incomparable woman, a butt for his ridicule! Wogan took a step towards the fellow with his fists clenched, but thought the better of his impulse, and turning away ran to the palace of Prince Taxis.
This desperate course alone remained to him; he must have speech with the Prince-bishop himself.

At the palace, however, he was informed that the Prince was in bed with the gout.

Mr.Wogan, however, insisted.
"You will present my duties to the Prince; you will show him my passport; you will say that the Count of Cernes has business of the last importance in Italy, and begs permission, since the Prince of Baden has hired every post-horse in the town, to requisition half a dozen farm-horses from the fields." Mr.Wogan kicked his heels in the courtyard while the message was taken.
At any moment some rumour of the curious spectacle in the square might be brought to the palace and excite inquiry.