Wet Magic
that war could cease . . . he could persuade anybody of anything. And, of course, they would start on the same footing—both Monarchs, you know."
"I see: like belonging to the same club," said Francis vaguely.
"But, of course, as things are, my royal Father thinks of nothing but shells—if only we could restore his memory . . ."
"I say," said Bernard suddenly, "does that Keep-your-Memory charm work backward?"
"Backward?"
"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.
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