ut, Dick," she said. "You
see, the old king, who is not very wise, but is a perfectly honourable
gentleman, gave you the highest praise." She thought of lecturing him a
little about disobeying his father, but it did not seem a good
opportunity. Besides, Jaqueline had been lectured herself lately, and
had not enjoyed it.

"What am I to say to my mother?" Dick repeated.

"We must think of something to say," said Jaqueline.

"I can't tell my mother anything but the truth," Ricardo went on. "Here's
my hand, how it does sting! and she must find out."

"I think I can cure it," said Jaqueline. "Didn't you say Prince Charles
gave you his own sword?"

"Yes, there it is; but what has that to do with it?"

"Everything in the world to do with it, my dear Dick. How lucky it is
that he gave it to you!"

And she ran to her own room, and brought a beautiful golden casket, which
contained her medicines.

Taking out a small phial, marked (in letters of emerald):

"WEAPON SALVE,"

the princess drew the bright sword, extracted a little of the ointment
from the phial, and spread it on a soft silk handkerchief.

"What are you going to do with the sword?" asked Ricardo.

"Polish it a little," said Jaqueline, smiling, and she began gently to
rub, with the salve, the point of the rapier.

As she did so, Ricardo's arm ceased to hurt, and the look of pain passed
from his mouth.

"Why, I feel quite better!" he said. "I can use my hand as well as
ever."

Then he took off the stained handkerchief, and, lo, there was not even a
mark where the wound had been! For this was the famous Weapon Salve
which you may read about in Sir Kenelm Digby, and which the Lady of
Branxholme used, in _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_. But the secret of
making it has long been lost, except in Pantouflia.

"You are the best girl in the world, Jaqueline," said Ricardo. "You may
give me a kiss if you like; and I won't call you 'Jack,' or laugh at you
for reading books, any more. There's something in books after all."

The princess did not take advantage of Dick's permission, but advised him
to lie down and try to sleep.

"I say, though," he said, "what about my father?"

"The king need never be told anything about it," said Jaqueline, "need
he?"

"Oh, that won't do! I tell my father everything; but then, I never had
anything like this to tell him before. Don't you think, Jaqueline, you
might break it to him? He's very fond of you. Just