“I mean—is it any use taking it after you’ve swallowed your dose of oblivion-cup? Is it a rester what’s its name as well as an antidote?” “Surely,” said the Princess, “it is a restorative; only we have no charm to give my Father—they are not made in this country—and alas! we cannot escape and go to our own kingdom and return with one.” “No need,” said Bernard, with growing excitement, “no need. Cathay’s charm is there, in the inner pocket of her magic coat. If we could get that, give the charm to your Father, and then get him an interview with the Queen?” “But what about Cathay?” said Mavis. “If my Father’s memory were restored,” said the Princess, “his wisdom would find us a way out of all our difficulties. To find Cathay’s coat: that is what we have to do.” “Yes,” said Francis. “That’s all.” He spoke a little bitterly, for he had really rather looked forward to that straight talk with the King, and the others had not been as enthusiastic as he felt he had a right to expect. “Let’s call Ulfin,” said the Princess, and they all scratched on the door of polished bird’s-eye maple that separated their apartments from the rest of the prison. The electric bells were out of order, so one scratched instead of ringing. It was quite as easy. Ulfin came with all speed. “We’re holding a council,” said Freia, “and we want you to help. We know you will.” “I know it,” said Ulfin, “tell me your needs—” And without more ado they told him all. “You trust me, Princess, I am proud,” he told her, but when he heard Francis’s dream of universal peace he took the freckled paw of Francis and laid his lips to it. And Francis, even in the midst of his pride and embarrassment at this token, could not help noticing that the lips of Ulfin were hard, like horn. “I kiss your hand,” said Ulfin, “because you give me back my honor, which I was willing to lay down, with all else, for the Princess to walk on to safety and escape. I would have helped you to find the hidden coat—for her sake alone, and that would have been a sin against my honor and my country—but now that I know it is to lead to peace, which, warriors as we are, the whole nation passionately desires, then I am acting as a true and honorable patriot. My only regret is that I have one gift the less to lay at the feet of the Princess.” “Do you know where the coats are?” Mavis asked. “They are in the Foreign Curiosities Museum,” said Ulfin, “strongly guarded: but the guards are the Horse Marines—whose officer lent you your chargers today. He is my friend, and when I tell him what is toward, he will help me. I only ask of you one promise in return. That you will not seek to escape, or to return to your own country, except by the free leave and license of our gracious Sovereigns.” The children easily promised—and they thought the promise would be easily kept. “Then tomorrow,” said Ulfin, “shall begin the splendid Peace Plot which shall hand our names down, haloed with glory, to remotest ages.”