The Dragon of Wantley - Part 11
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Part 11

"You old mattra.s.s!" said Sir G.o.dfrey. Then he turned to his daughter.

But this young lady had had a little time to gather her thoughts in.

So she cut short all awkward questionings with excellent promptness.

"Papa!" she began, breathlessly. "There! I heard it again!"

"Heard it? What?" cried the Baron, his eyes starting.

"It waked me up-stairs, and I ran to get you in your room, and you----"

"It--it? What's it? What waked you?" broke in Sir G.o.dfrey, his voice rising to a shriek.

"There it is again!" exclaimed Elaine, clasping her hands. "He's coming! I hear him. The Dragon! Oh!"

With this, she pretended to rush for the pa.s.sage, where the squeaks of Mistletoe could be heard already growing distant in the house. Away bolted Sir G.o.dfrey after her, shouting to Elaine in terror undisguised, "Lock your door! Lock your door!" as he fled up-stairs.

So there stood Miss Elaine alone, with the coast clear, and no danger from these two courageous guardians. Then came a knock from outside, and her heart bounded as she ran through the cellar and undid the door.

"You darling!" said Geoffrey, jumping in with legs all covered with snow. He left the door open wide, and had taken four or five kisses at the least before she could stop him. "The moon was out for a while,"

he continued, "and the snow stopped. So I came a long way round-about, that my tracks should not be seen. That's good strategy."

But this strange young lady said no word, and looked at him as if she were going to cry.

"Why, what's the matter, dear?" he asked.

"Oh, Geoffrey! I have been deceiving papa so."

"Pooh! It's not to be thought of."

"But I can't help thinking. I never supposed I could do so. And it comes so terribly easy. And I'm not a bit clever when I'm good.

And--oh!" She covered her face and turned away from him.

"Stuff and nonsense!" Geoffrey broke out. "Do be reasonable. Here is a dragon. Isn't there?"

"Yes."

"And everybody wants to get rid of him?"

"Yes."

"And he's robbing your father?"

"Yes."

"So you're acting for your father's good?"

"Y--yes."

"Then----"

"Now, Geoffrey, all your talking doesn't hide the badness in the least bit."

She was silent again; then suddenly seemed greatly relieved. "I don't care," she declared. "Papa locked me up for a whole week, when all I wanted was to help him and everybody get rid of the Dragon. And I am too old to be treated so. And now I am just going to pretend there's a dragon when there's not. Oh, what's that?"

This time it was no sham. Faint and far from the direction of Oyster-le-Main came the roar of the Dragon of Wantley over fields and farms.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER VIII

Contains a Dilemma with two simply egregious Horns.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"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 p.r.o.ne 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.