“But, Dick, it is your father’s rule that you are never to meddle in the affairs of other countries, and never to start on an expedition when he is not at home.”
“Oh, he won’t mind this time! There’s no kind of danger; and I’m sure he will approve of the principle of the thing. Kings must stick up for each other. Why, some electing characters might come here and kick us out!”
“Your father is not the sort of king who is kicked out,” said Jaqueline.
But there was no use in talking to Dick. He made his simple preparations, and announced that he would be back in time for luncheon.
What was poor Jaqueline to do? She was extremely anxious. She knew, as we saw, what King Prigio had intended about changing the fairy things for others that would not work. She was certain Dick would get himself into a scrape; how was she to help him? She made up her mind quickly, while Dick was putting his things together. She
told the queen (it was the nearest to the truth she could think of) that she “was going for a turn with Dick.” Then she changed herself into a mosquito—a kind of gnat that bites—and hid herself under a fold of Dick’s coat. Of course he knew nothing about her being there. Then he started off in his Seven-league Boots, and before you could say “Jack Robinson” he was in Rome, in the grounds of a splendid palace called the Villa Borghese.
There he saw an elderly gentleman, in a great curled wig, sound asleep on a seat beneath a tree. The old gentleman had a long, pale, melancholy face, and across his breast was a broad blue ribbon with a star. Ah! how changed was King James from the handsome Prince who had loved fair Beatrix Esmond, thirty years ago! Near him were two boys, not quite so old as Prince Ricardo. The younger was a pretty dark boy, with a
funny little roundabout white wig. He was splendidly dressed in a light-blue silk coat; a delicate little lace scarf was tied round his neck; he had lace ruffles falling about his little ringed hands; he had a pretty sword, with a gold handle set with diamonds—in fact, he was the picture of a little dandy. The other lad had a broad Scotch bonnet on, and no wig; beautiful silky yellow locks fell about his shoulders. He had laid his sword on the grass. He was dressed in tartan, which Ricardo had never seen before; and he wore a kilt, which was also new to Ricardo, who wondered at his bare legs—for he was wearing shoes with no stockings. In his hand he held a curious club, with a long, slim handle, and a head made heavy with lead, and defended with horn. With this he was aiming at a little white ball; and suddenly he swung up the club and sent the ball out of sight in the air, over several trees.
Prince Ricardo stepped up to this boy, took off his cap, and said:
“I think I have the honour of addressing the Prince of Wales?”