"Run instantly into the house," said Geoffrey to Elaine, and he dragged out his sword.

But she stared at him, and nothing further.

"Or no. Stay here and see me kill him," the boy added, pridefully.

"Kill him!" said she, in amazement. "Do you suppose that papa, with all his experience, couldn't tell it was an imitation dragon? And you talk of strategy! I have thought much about to-night,--and, Geoffrey, you must do just the thing that I bid you, and nothing else. Promise."

"I think we'll hear first what your wisdom is," said he, shaking his head like the sage youth that he was.

"Promise!" she repeated, "else I go away at once, and leave you. Now! One--two--thrrr----"

"I promise!" he shouted.

"'Sh! Papa's window is just round the tower. Now, sir, you must go over yonder within those trees."

"Where?"

"There where the snow has dipped the branches low down. And leave me alone in the cellar with the Dragon."

"With the Dragon? Alone? I did not know you counted me a lunatic," replied Geoffrey. Then, after a look over the fields where the storm was swirling, he gave attention to the point of his sword.

"Where's your promise?" said she. "Will you break your word so soon?"

A big gust of wind flung the snow sharp against their faces.

"Did you expect----" began the young knight, and then said some words that I suppose gentlemen in those old times were more prone to use before ladies than they are to-day. Which shows the optimists are right.

Then, still distant, but not so distant, came another roar.

"Geoffrey!" Elaine said, laying a hand upon his arm; "indeed, you must hear me now, and make no delay with contrary notions. There is no danger for me. Look. He will first be by himself to clear the way of watchers. No one peeps out of windows when the Dragon's howling. Next, the rest will come and all go into papa's cellar for the wine. But we must get these others away, and that's for you." She paused.

"Well? Well?" he said.

"It will go thus: the passage shall hide me, and the door of it be shut. You'll watch over by the trees, and when you see all have come inside here, make some sort of noise at the edge of the wood."

"What sort of noise?"

"Oh,--not as if you suspected. Seem to be passing by. Play you are a villager going home late. When they hear that, they'll run away for fear of their secret. The Dragon will surely stay behind."

"Why will he stay behind? Why will they run away?"

"Dear Geoffrey, don't you see that if these men were to be seen in company with the Dragon by one who till now knew them as monks, where would their living be gone to? Of course, they will get themselves out of sight, and the Dragon will remain as a sort of human scarecrow. Then I'll come out from the passage-door."

"One would almost think you desired that villain to kill you," said Geoffrey. "No, indeed. I'll not consent to that part."

"How shall he kill me here?" Elaine replied. "Do you not see the Dragon of Wantley would have to carry a maiden away? He would not dare to put me to the sword. When I come, I shall speak three words to him. Before there is time for him to think what to do, you will hear me say (for you must have now run up from the wood) 'the legend has come true!' Then, when I tell him that, do you walk in ready with your sword to keep him polite. Oh, indeed," said the lady, with her eyes sparkling on Geoffrey, "we must keep his manners good for him. For I think he's one of those persons who might turn out very rude in a trying situation."

All this was far from pleasing to young Geoffrey. But Elaine showed him how no other way was to be found by which Sir Francis could be trapped red-handed and distant from help. While the knight was bending his brows down with trying to set his thoughts into some order that should work out a better device, a glare shone over the next hill against the falling flakes.

"Quick!" said Elaine.

She withdrew into the cellar on the instant, and the great door closed between them. Geoffrey stood looking at it very anxiously, and then walked backwards, keeping close to the walls, and so round the tower and into the court, whence he turned and ploughed as fast as he could through the deep drifts till he was inside the trees. "If they spy my steps," he thought, "it will seem as though some one of the house had gone in there to secure the door."

Once more the glare flashed against the swiftly-descending curtains of the storm. Slowly it approached, sometimes illuminating a tree-trunk for a moment, then suddenly gleaming on the white mounds where rocks lay deeply cloaked.

"He is pretty slow," said Geoffrey, shifting the leg he was leaning on.

[Illustration: The Dragon thinketh to slake his thirst]

A black mass moved into sight, and from it came spoutings of fire that showed dark, jagged wings heavily flapping. It walked a little and stopped; then walked again. Geoffrey could see a great snout and head rocking and turning. Dismal and unspeakable sounds proceeded from the creature as it made towards the cellar-door. After it had got close and leaned against the panels in a toppling, swaying fashion, came a noise of creaking and fumbling, and then the door rolled aside upon its hinges. Next, the blurred white ridge towards Oyster-le-Main was darkened with moving specks that came steadily near; and man by man of the Guild reached the open door crouching, whispered a word or two, and crept inside. They made no sound that could be heard above the hissing of the downward flakes and the wind that moaned always, but louder sometimes. Only Elaine, with her ear to the cold iron key-hole of the passage-door, could mark the clink of armour, and shivered as she stood in the dark. And now the cellar is full,--but not of gray gowns. The candle flames show little glistening sparks in the black coats of mail, and the sight of themselves cased in steel, and each bearing an empty keg, stirred a laughter among them. Then the kegs were set down without noise on the earthy floor among the bins. The Dragon was standing on his crooked scaly hind-legs; and to see the grim, changeless jaw and eyes brought a dead feeling around the heart. But the two bungling fore-paws moved upwards, shaking like a machine, and out of a slit in the hide came two white hands that lifted to one side the brown knarled mask of the crocodile. There was the black head of Sir Francis Almoign. "'Tis hot in there," he said; and with two fingers he slung the drops of sweat from his forehead.

"Wet thy whistle before we begin," said Hubert, filling a jug for him. Sir Francis took it in both hands, and then clutched it tightly as a sudden singing was set up out in the night.

"Come, take a wife,
Come, take a wife,
Ere thou learnest age's treasons!"

The tune came clear and jolly, cutting through the muffled noises of the tempest.

"Blood and death!" muttered Hubert.

Each figure had sprung into a stiff position of listening.

"Quit thy roving;
Shalt by loving
Not wax lean in stormy seasons.
Ho! ho! oh,--ho!
Not wax lean in----"

Here the strain snapped off short. Then a whining voice said, "Oh, I have fallen again! A curse on these roots. Lucifer fell only once, and 'twas enough for him. I have looked on the wine when it was red, and my dame Jeanie will know it soon, oh, soon! But my sober curse on these roots."

"That's nothing," said Hubert. "There's a band of Christmas singers has strolled into these parts to chant carols. One of them has stopped too long at the tavern."

"Do I see a light?" said the voice. "Help! Give me a light, and let me go home.

"Quit thy roving;
Shalt by loving----"

"Shall I open his throat, that he may sing the next verse in heaven?" Hubert inquired.

"No, fool!" said Sir Francis. "Who knows if his brother sots are not behind him to wake the house? This is too dangerous to-night. Away with you, every one. Stoop low till ye are well among the fields, and then to Oyster-le-Main! I'll be Dragon for a while, and follow after."

Quickly catching up his keg, each man left the cellar like a shadow. Geoffrey, from the edge of the wood, saw them come out and dissolve away into the night. With the tube of the torch at his lips, Sir Francis blew a blast of fire out at the door, then covered his head once more with the grinning crocodile. He roared twice, and heard something creak behind him, so turned to see what had made it. There was Miss Elaine on the passage-steps. Her lips moved to speak, but for a short instant fear put a silence upon her that she found no voice to break. He, with a notion she was there for the sake of the legend, waved his great paws and trundled towards where she was standing.

"Do not forget to roar, sir," said the young lady, managing her voice so there was scarce any tremble to be heard in it.

At this the Dragon stood still.

"You perceive," she said to him, "after all, a dragon, like a mouse, comes to the trap."

"Not quite yet," cried Sir Francis, in a terrible voice, and rushed upon her, meaning death.

"The legend has come true!" she loudly said.

A gleaming shaft of steel whistled across the sight of Sir Francis.

"Halt there!" thundered Geoffrey, leaping between the two, and posing his sword for a lunge.

"My hour has come," Sir Francis thought. For he was cased in the stiff hide, and could do nothing in defence.

"Now shalt thou lick the earth with thy lying tongue," said Geoffrey.

A sneer came through the gaping teeth of the crocodile.

"Valiant, indeed!" the voice said. "Very valiant and knightly, oh son of Bertram of Poictiers! Frenchmen know when to be bold. Ha! ha!"

"Crawl out of that nut, thou maggot," answered Geoffrey, "and taste thy doom."

Here was a chance, the gift of a fool. The two white hands appeared and shifted the mask aside, letting them see a cunning hope on his face.

"Do not go further, sir," said Elaine. "It is for the good of us all that you abide where you are. As I shall explain."

"What is this, Elaine?" said Geoffrey.

"Your promise!" she answered, lifting a finger at him.

There was a dry crack from the crocodile's hide.

"Villain!" cried Geoffrey, seizing the half-extricated body by the throat. "Thy false skin is honester than thyself, and warned us. Back inside!"

The robber's eyes shrivelled to the size of a snake's, as, with no tenderness, the youth grappled with him still entangled, and with hands, feet, and knees drove him into his shell as a hasty traveller tramples his effects into a packing-case.

"See," said Elaine, "how pleasantly we two have you at our disposal. Shall the neighbours be called to have a sight of the Dragon?"

"What do you want with me?" said Sir Francis, quietly. For he was a philosopher.

"In the first place," answered Geoffrey, "know that thou art caught. And if I shall spare thee this night, it may well be they'll set thy carcase swinging on the gallows-tree to-morrow morning,--or, being Christmas, the day after."

"I can see my case without thy help," Sir Francis replied. "What next?"

At this, Elaine came to Geoffrey and they whispered together.

[Illustration: The Dragon perceiueth hymself to be entrapped]

"Thy trade is done for," said the youth, at length. "There'll be no more monks of Oyster-le-Main, and no more Dragon of Wantley. But thou and the other curs may live, if ye so choose."

"Through what do I buy my choice?"

"Through a further exhibition of thine art. Thou must play Dragon to-night once again for the last time. This, that I may show thee captive to Sir Godfrey Disseisin."

"And in chains, I think," added Elaine. "There is one behind the post." It had belonged in the bear-pit during the lives of Orlando Crumb and Furioso Bun, two bears trapped expressly for the Baron near Roncevaux.

"After which?" inquired Sir Francis.

"Thou shalt go free, and I will claim this lady's hand from her father, who promised her to any man that brought the Dragon to him dead or alive."

"Papa shall be kept at a distance from you," said Elaine, "and will never suspect in this dimness, if you roar at him thoroughly."

"Then," continued Geoffrey, "I shall lead thee away as my spoil, and the people shall see the lizard-skin after a little while. But thou must journey far from Wantley, and never show face again."

"And go from Oyster-le-Main and the tithings?" exclaimed Sir Francis. "My house and my sustenance?"

"Sustain thyself elsewhere," said Geoffrey; "I care not how."

"No!" said Sir Francis. "I'll not do this."

"Then we call Sir Godfrey. The Baron will not love thee very much, seeing how well he loves his Burgundy thou hast drank. Thou gavest him sermons on cold spring-water. He'll remember that. I think thou'lt be soon hanging. So choose."

The Knight of the Voracious Stomach was silent.

"This is a pretty scheme thou hast," he presently said. "And not thine own. She has taught thee this wit, I'll be bound. Mated to her, thou'lt prosper, I fear."

"Come, thy choice," said Geoffrey, sternly.

A sour smile moved the lips of Sir Francis. "Well," he said, "it has been good while it lasted. Yes, I consent. Our interests lie together. See how Necessity is the mother of Friendship, also."

The mask was drawn over his face, and they wound the chain about the great body.

"There must be sounds of fighting," said Elaine. "Make them when I am gone into the house."

"If I had strangled thee in thy prison, which was in my mind," said the voice of the hidden speaker, "this folly we--but there. Let it go, and begin."

Then they fell to making a wonderful disturbance. The Dragon's voice was lifted in horrid howlings; and the young knight continually bawled with all his lungs. They chased as children in a game do: forward, back, and across to nowhere, knocking the barrels, clanking and clashing, up between the rows and around corners; and the dry earth was ground under their feet and swept from the floor upward in a fine floating yellow powder that they sucked down into their windpipes, while still they hustled and jangled and banged and coughed and grew dripping wet, so the dust and the water mingled and ran black streams along their bodies from the nec............