Wogan raised himself on his toes and looked that way too.
Having looked he sank down again, aware at once that he had travelled of late a long way in a little time, and that he was intolerably tired.

For that one glance was enough to deprive him of his last possibility of doubt.

He had seen the Chevalier de St.George, his King, sitting apart in a little open space, and over against him a short squarish man, dusty as Wogan himself, who stood and sullenly waited.

It was Sir John Hay, the man who had been sent to fetch the Princess Clementina privately to Bologna, and here he now was back at Bologna and alone.
Wogan had counted much upon this marriage, more indeed than any of his comrades.

It was to be the first step of the pedestal in the building up of a throne.