Something like that. 'Blood for--er--blood for--er----' No, it's
gone again. I know there was a bit of blood in it."

"I'm sure you'll get it soon," said Hyacinth. "It sounds as thought
it's going to be just the sort of thing that's wanted."

"Oh, I shall get it all right. Some of the words have escaped me for
the moment, that's all. 'Blood--er--blood.' You must have heard of
it, Princess: it's about blood for he who something; you must know the
one I mean.

"I know I've heard of it," said the Princess, wrinkling her forehead,
"only I can't quite think of it for the moment. It's about a--a----"

"Yes, that's it," said Udo.

Then they both looked up at the ceiling with their heads on one side
and murmured to themselves.

But noon came and still they hadn't thought of it.

After a simple meal they returned to the library.

"I think I'd better write to Coronel," said Udo, "and ask him about
it."

"I thought you said his name was Sacharino."

"Oh, this is not the poet, it's just a friend of mine, but he's rather
good at this sort of thing. The trouble is that it takes such a long
time for a letter to get there and back."

At the word "letter," Hyacinth started suddenly.

"Oh, Prince Udo," she cried, "I can never forgive myself. I've just
remembered the very thing. Father told me in his letter that a little
couplet he once wrote was being very useful for--er--removing things."

"What sort of things?" said Udo, not too hopefully.

"Oh, enchantments and things."

Udo was a little annoyed at the "and things"--as those turning him
back into a Prince again was as much in the day's work as removing
rust from a helmet.

"It goes like this," said Hyacinth.

"_Bo, boll, bill, bole._
_Wo, woll, will, wole._"

"It sounds as though it would remove _anything_," she added, with a
smile.

Udo sat up rather eagerly.

"I'll try," he said. "Is there any particular action that goes with
it?"

"I've never heard of any. I expect you ought to say it as if you
meant it."

Udo sat up on his back paws, and, gesticulating freely with his right
paw, declaimed:

"_Bo, boll, bill, bole._
_Wo, woll, will, wole._"

He fixed his eyes on his paws, waiting for the transformation.

He waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

"It must be all right," said Hyacinth anxiously, "because I'm sure
Father would know. Try saying it more like this."

She repeated the lines in a voice so melting, y