Part 14 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
”We shall see who is master of this house,” he said. ”I am not going to--does he suppose anybody that pleases can come carting their dragons through my premises? Get up! Get up! Every one!” he shouted, hurrying along the hall with the sword in his right hand and a lantern in his left. His slippers were only half on, so they made a slithering and slapping over the floor; and his speed was such that the quilted red dressing-gown filled with the wind and spread behind him till he looked like a huge new sort of bird or an eccentric balloon. Up and down in all quarters of the house went Sir G.o.dfrey, pounding against every shut door. Out they came. Mistletoe from her closet, squeaking.
Whelpdale from under his bed. The Baron allowed him time to put on a pair of breeches wrong side out. The cook came, and you could hear her panting all the way down from the attic. Out came the nine house-maids with hair in curl-papers. The seven footmen followed. Meeson and Welsby had forgotten their wigs. The coachman and grooms and stable-boys came in horse-blankets and boots. And last in the procession, old Popham, one calf securely strapped on, and the other dangling disgracefully. Breathless they huddled behind the Baron, who strode to the cellar, where he flung the door open. Over in a corner was a hideous monster, and every man fell against his neighbour and shrieked. At which the monster roared most alarmingly, and all fell together again. Young Geoffrey stood in the middle of the cellar, and said not a word. One end of a chain was in his hand, and he waited mighty stiff for the Baron to speak. But when he saw Miss Elaine come stealing in after the rest so quiet and with her eyes fixed upon him, his own eyes shone wonderfully.
At the sight of the Dragon, Sir G.o.dfrey forgot his late excitement, and muttered ”Bless my soul!” Then he stared at the beast for some time.
”Can--can't he do anything?” he inquired.
”No,” said Geoffrey shortly; ”he can't.”
”Not fly up at one, for instance?”
”I have broken his wing,” replied the youth.
”I--I'd like to look at him. Never saw one before,” said the Baron; and he took two steps. Then gingerly he moved another step.
”Take care!” Geoffrey cried, with rapid alarm.
The monster moved, and from his nostrils (as it seemed) shot a plume of flame.
Popham clutched the cook, and the nine house-maids sank instantly into the arms of the seven footmen without the slightest regard to how unsatisfactorily nine goes into seven.
”Good heavens!” said the Baron, getting behind a hogshead, ”what a brute!”
”Perhaps it might be useful if I excommunicated him,” said the Rev.
Hucbald, who had come in rather late, with his clerical frock-coat b.u.t.toned over his pyjamas.
”Pooh!” said the Baron. ”As if he'd care for that.”
”Very few men can handle a dragon,” said Geoffrey, unconcernedly, and stroked his upper lip, where a kindly-disposed person might see there was going to be a moustache some day.
”I don't know exactly what you mean to imply by that, young man,” said the Baron, coming out from behind the hogshead and puffing somewhat pompously.
”Why, zounds!” he exclaimed, ”I left you locked up this afternoon, and securely. How came you here?”
Geoffrey coughed, for it was an awkward inquiry.
”Answer me without so much throat-clearing,” said the Baron.
”I'll clear my throat as it pleases me,” replied Geoffrey hotly. ”How I came here is no affair of yours that I can see. But ask Father Anselm himself, and he will tell you.” This was a happy thought, and the youth threw a look at the Dragon, who nodded slightly. ”I have a question to ask you, sir,” Geoffrey continued, taking a tone and manner more polite. Then he pointed to the Dragon with his sword, and was silent.
”Well?” said Sir G.o.dfrey, ”don't keep me waiting.”
”I fear your memory's short, sir. By your word proclaimed this morning the man who brought you this Dragon should have your daughter to wife if she--if she----”
”Ha!” said the Baron. ”To be sure. Though it was hasty. Hum! Had I foreseen the matter would be so immediately settled--she's a great prize for any lad--and you're not hurt either. One should be hurt for such a reward. You seem entirely sound of limb and without a scratch.
A great prize.”