ortunately, was lunching with one of the
ladies of her Court. Ricardo did not come down to luncheon, and
Jaqueline ate hers alone; and very mournful she felt. The prince had
certainly not come well out of the adventure. He had failed (as all
attempts to restore the Stuarts always did); he had been wounded, though
he had never received a scratch in any of his earlier exploits; and if
his honour was safe, and his good intentions fully understood, that was
chiefly due to Jaqueline, and to the generosity of King James and Prince
Charles.

"I wonder what he's doing?" she said to herself, and at last she went up
and knocked at Ricardo's door.

"Go away," he said; "I don't want to see anybody. Who is it?"

"It's only me--Jaqueline."

{"It's only me": p111.jpg}

"Go away! I want nobody."

"Do let me in, dear Dick; I have good news for you," said the princess.

"What is it?" said Ricardo, unlocking the door. "Why do you bother a
fellow so?"

He had been crying--his hand obviously hurt him badly; he looked, and
indeed he was, very sulky.

"How did you get on in England, Dick?" asked the princess, taking no
notice of his bandaged hand.

"Oh, don't ask me!" said Ricardo. "I've not been to England at all."

"Why, what happened?"

"Everything that is horrid happened," said Dick; and then, unable to keep
it any longer to himself, he said: "I've failed to keep my promise; I've
been insulted, I've been beaten by a fellow younger than myself; and, oh!
how my hand does hurt, and I've got such a headache! And what am I to
say to my mother when she asks why my arm is in a sling? and what will my
father say? I'm quite broken down and desperate. I think I'll run away
to sea;" and indeed he looked very wild and miserable.

"Tell me how it all happened, Dick," said the princess; "I'm sure it's
not so bad as you make out. Perhaps I can help you."

"How can a girl help a man?" cried Dick, angrily; and poor Jaqueline,
remembering how she _had_ helped him, at the risk of her own life, when
King James nearly crushed her in the shape of a mosquito, turned her head
away, and cried silently.

"I'm a beast," said Dick. "I beg your pardon, Jack dear. You are always
a trump, I will say; but I don't see what you can do."

Then he told her all the story (which, of course, she knew perfectly well
already), except the part played by the mosquito, of which he could not
be aware.

"I was sure it was not so bad as you made it o