s," said Ricardo.

"Well, he says: 'Prins and dear Cousin,--You and me' (oh, what grammar!)
'are much the same age, I being fifteen next birthday, and we should be
better _ackwainted_. All the wurld has herd of the fame of Prins
Ricardo, whose name is _feerd_, and his _sord_ dreded, wherever there are
Monsters and Tirants. Prins, you may be less well informed about my
situation. I have not killed any Dragguns, there being nun of them here;
but I have been _under fiar_, at Gaeta.' Where's Gaeta, Dick?"

"Never heard of it," said Ricardo.

"Well, it is in Italy, and it was besieged lately. He goes on: 'and I am
told that I did not misbehave myself, nor disgrace _the blud of Bruce_.'"

"I've heard of Robert Bruce," said Dick; "he was the man who did not kill
the spider, but he cracked the head of Sir Harry Bohun with one whack of
his axe. I remember _him_ well enough."

"Well, your correspondent seems to be a descendant of his."

"That's getting more interesting," said Dick. "I wish my father would go
to war with somebody. With the Sword of Sharpness I'd make the enemy
whistle! Drive on, Jack."

"'As a prins in distress, I apeal to your valler, so renouned in Europe.
I am kept out of my own; my royal father, King Gems,'--well, this is the
worst spelling I ever saw in my life! He means King _James_,--'my royal
father, King Gems, being druv into exile by a crewl Usurper, the Elector
of Hannover. King Gems is _old_, and likes a quiat life; but I am
determined to make an effort, if I go alone, and Europe shall here of
Prince Charles. Having heard--as who has not?--of your royal Highness's
courage and sordsmanship, I throw myself at your feet, and implore you to
asist a prins in distres. Let our sords be drawn together in the caus of
freedom and an outraged country, my own.

"'I remain,
"'Prins and dear Cuzen,
"'CHARLES, P. W.'

"P. W. means Prince of Wales," added Jaqueline. "He is turned out of
England you know, and lives at Rome with his father."

"I like that chap," said Prince Ricardo. "He does not spell very well,
as you say, but I sometimes make mistakes myself; and I like his spirit.
I've been looking out for an adventure; but the big game is getting shy,
and my sword rusts in his scabbard. I'll tell you what, Jack--I've an
idea! I'll put him on the throne of his fathers; it's as easy as
shelling peas: and as for that other fellow, the Elector, I'll send him
back to Hanover, wherever that ma