He was indeed sufficiently generous to tell Count Otto that he need not hurry.

The Count fetched the pistol and took up the lamp again.
"Will you now follow me ?" Wogan looked straight before him into the air and spoke to no one in particular.
"A pistol is, to be sure, more useful than a sword; but there is just one thing more useful on an occasion than a pistol, and that is a hunting knife." Count Otto shook his head.
"There, Chevalier, I doubt if I can serve you." "But upon my word," said Wogan, picking up a carving-knife from the tray, "here is the very thing." "It has no sheath." Wogan was almost indignant at the suggestion that he would go so far as to ask even his dearest friend for a sheath.

Besides, he had a sheath, and he fitted the knife into it.
"Now," said he, pleasantly, "all that I need is a sound, swift, thoroughbred horse about six or seven years old." Count Otto for the fourth time took up his lamp.
"Will you follow me ?" he said for the fourth time.
Wogan followed the old man across the lawn and round a corner of the house until he came to a long, low building surmounted by a cupola.

The building was the stable, and the Count Otto roused one of his grooms.
"Saddle me Flavia," said he.

"Flavia is a mare who, I fancy, fulfils your requirements." Wogan had no complaint to make of her.