"Yes, Your Majesty," agreed Harold. "Besides, I cannot tell it by heart. I should have to get the book from our generous library. I can read it better; there is so much in the manner of the writing. It is a pity Your Majesty is in such a hurry to fight, or I might bring that book hither to-morrow and read you the pleasant tale." The Red King fidgeted. "I am losing time at a terrible rate!" he growled. "Think of what harm I might be doing! When have I wasted hours like this, you wheedling boy?" "I do not think these hours are wasted. It is war that wastes," said Harold. "Fudge!" retorted Red Rex; "we must have war. Was that lion a red lion, Harold?" "A red lion, Your Majesty," nodded Harold. The Red King grew excited. "I must, then, hear about him!" he cried. "It is my duty.--What ho, there!" he shouted to his men who were making ready to continue the siege. "I have changed my mind. We will not fight for another day. Take this boy back to the city, and proclaim continued truce until he returns to us." "Your Majesty is wise," said Harold with shining eyes. "I think you will not be sorry to hear the tale of the Lion Passant." So the crisis was delayed for another day; and Kisington blessed Harold. They made a feast at the poor widow's cottage from presents sent by the Leading Citizens. Richard and Robert sat at the head of the table, one on each side of Harold, and all his other boy and girl friends sat down the sides of the table, and he told them all about his adventure with the besieging King. One and all begged him to let them go with him on the following day. But this, of course, Harold could not promise. He was the only one who could read well enough to charm the War-Lord. They all wished that they had learned to read as well as Harold. When on the morrow Harold returned to the Red King, this is the story which he read from one of the peaceful books of Kisington--the story of _The Lion Passant_. X. THE LION PASSANT A long time ago, in one of the narrowest side-streets of Kisington, stood an old curiosity shop, full of strange things. It was a dark little den inside, so dark that the outer sunshine made the old shopman blink as he stood in the doorway talking with the stranger. The stranger was a Medicine Man, and he had just sold a bottle of his famous Elixir of Life to the old shopkeeper. "Yes, sir," said the Medicine Man, as he turned to go, "you will find my Magic Elixir all that I claim it to be. It will bring back youth and beauty to the aged. It will give sight to eyes that see not, hearing to deaf ears, speech to the tongue-tied and motion to limbs that have never moved before. It will also cure whooping-cough."