"That's right!" the prisoner said, laughing dryly. "Draw thy sword and split our secret open. It will be a fine wedding-day thou'lt have then. Our way out of this is plain enough. Did not the Baron say that Father Anselm was to be present at the burning? He shall be present."

"Yes," said the youth. "But how to get out of the pit? And how can there be a dragon to burn if thou art to be Father Anselm? And how----" he stopped.

"I am full of pity for thy brains," said Sir Francis.

"Here's the pit!" said the voice of Sir G.o.dfrey. "Bring him along."

"Hark!" said Sir Francis to Geoffrey. "Thou must go to Oyster-le-Main with a message. Darest thou go alone?"

"If I dare?" retorted Geoffrey, proudly.

"It is well. Come to the pit when the Baron is safe in the house."

Now they were at the iron door. Here the ground was on a level with the bottom of the pit, but sloped steeply up to the top of its walls elsewhere, so that one could look down inside. The Baron unlocked the door and entered with his cowslip wine, which (not being a very potent decoction) began to be covered with threads of ice as soon as it was set down. The night was growing more bitter as its frosty hours wore on; for the storm was departed, and the wind fallen to silence, and the immense sky clean and cold with the shivering glitter of the stars.

Then Geoffrey led the Dragon into the pit. This was a rude and desolate hole, and its furniture of that extreme simplicity common to bear-pits in those barbarous times. From the middle of the stone floor rose the trunk of a tree, ragged with lopped boughs and at its top forking into sundry limbs possible to sit among. An iron trough was there near a heap of stale greasy straw, and both were shapeless white lumps beneath the snow. The chiselled and cemented walls rose round in a circle and showed no crevice for the nails of either man or bear to climb by. Many times had Orlando Crumb and Furioso Bun observed this with sadness, and now Sir Francis observed it also. He took into his chest a big swallow of air, and drove it out again between his teeth with a weary hissing.

"I will return at once," Geoffrey whispered as he was leaving.

Then the door was shut to, and Sir Francis heard the lock grinding as the key was turned. Then he heard the Baron speaking to Geoffrey.

"I shall take this key away," he said; "there's no telling what wandering fool might let the monster out. And now there's but little time before dawn. Elaine, child, go to your bed. This excitement has plainly tired you. I cannot have my girl look like that when she's a bride to-day. And you too, sir," he added, surveying Geoffrey, "look a trifle out of sorts. Well, I am not surprised. A dragon is no joke.

Come to my study." And he took Geoffrey's arm.

"Oh, no!" said the youth. "I cannot. I--I must change my dress."

"Pooh, sir! I shall send to the tavern for your kit. Come to my study.

You are pale. We'll have a little something hot. Aha! Something hot!"

"But I think----" Geoffrey began.

"Tush!" said the Baron. "You shall help me with the wedding invitations."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Sir Francis decideth to go down agayne]

"Sir!" said Geoffrey haughtily, "I know nothing of writing and such low habits."

"Why no more do I, of course," replied Sir G.o.dfrey; "nor would I suspect you or any good gentleman of the practice, though I have made my mark upon an indenture in the presence of witnesses."

"A man may do that with propriety," a.s.sented the youth. "But I cannot come with you now, sir. 'Tis not possible."

"But I say that you shall!" cried the Baron in high good-humour. "I can mull Malvoisie famously, and will presently do so for you. 'Tis to help me seal the invitations that I want you. My Chaplain shall write them. Come."

He locked Geoffrey's arm in his own, and strode quickly forward.

Feeling himself dragged away, Geoffrey turned his head despairingly back towards the pit.

"Oh, he's safe enough in there," said Sir G.o.dfrey. "No need to watch him."

Sir Francis had listened to this conversation with rising dismay. And now he quickly threw off the crocodile hide and climbed up the tree as the bears had often done before him. It came almost to a level with the wall's rim, but the radius was too great a distance for jumping.

"I should break my leg," he said, and came down the tree again, as the bears had likewise often descended.

The others were now inside the house. Elaine with a sinking heart retired to her room, and her father after summoning the Rev. Hucbald took Geoffrey into his study. The Chaplain followed with a bunch of goose-quills and a large ink-horn, and seated himself at a table, while the Baron mixed some savoury stuff, going down his private staircase into the b.u.t.tery to get the spice and honey necessary.

"Here's to the health of all, and luck to-day," said the Baron; and Geoffrey would have been quite happy if an earthquake had come and altered all plans for the morning. Still he went through the form of clinking goblets. But his heart ached, and his eyes grew hot as he sat dismal and lonely away from his girl.

"Whom shall we ask to the wedding?" queried the Rev. Hucbald, rubbing his hands and looking at the pitcher in which Sir G.o.dfrey had mixed the beverage.

"Ask the whole county," said Sir G.o.dfrey. "The more the merrier. My boy Roland will be here to-morrow. He'll find his sister has got ahead of him. Have some," he added, holding the pitcher to the Rev. Hucbald.

"I do believe I will take just a little sip," returned the divine.

"Thanks! ah--most delicious, Baron! A marriage on Christmas Day," he added, "is--ahem!--highly irregular. But under the unusual, indeed the truly remarkable, circ.u.mstances, I make no doubt that the Pope----"

"Drat him!" said Sir G.o.dfrey; at which the Chaplain smiled reproachfully, and shook a long transparent taper finger at his patron in a very playful manner, saying, "Baron! now, Baron!"

"My boy Roland's learning to be a knight over at my uncle Mortmain's,"

continued Sir G.o.dfrey, pouring Geoffrey another goblet. "You'll like him."

But Geoffrey's thoughts were breeding more anxiety in him every moment.

"I'll get the sealing-wax," observed the Baron, and went to a cabinet.

"This room is stifling," cried Geoffrey. "I shall burst soon, I think."

"It's my mulled Malvoisie you're not accustomed to," Sir G.o.dfrey said, as he rummaged in the cabinet. "Open the window and get some fresh air, my lad. Now where the deuce is my family seal?"

As Geoffrey opened the window, a soft piece of snow flew through the air and dropped lightly on his foot. He looked quickly and perceived a man's shadow jutting into the moonlight from an angle in the wall.

Immediately he plunged out through the cas.e.m.e.nt, which was not very high.

"Merciful powers!" said the Rev. Hucbald, letting fall his quill and spoiling the first invitation, "what an impulsive young man! Why, he has run clean round the corner."

"'Tis all my Malvoisie," said the Baron, hugely delighted, and hurrying to the window. "Come back when you're sober!" he shouted after Geoffrey with much mirth. Then he shut the window.

"These French heads never can weather English brews," he remarked to the Chaplain. "But I'll train the boy in time. He is a rare good lad.

Now, to work."

Out in the snow, Geoffrey with his sword drawn came upon Hubert.

"Thou mayest sheathe that knife," said the latter.

"And be thy quarry?" retorted Geoffrey.

"I have come too late for that!" Hubert answered.

"Thou hast been to the bear-pit, then?"

"Oh, aye!"