Part 19 (1/2)

”The roasting,” replied the Abbot, impressively, ”is even now begun for all eternity.” He stretched out an arm and pointed downward through the earth. ”The evil spirit has fled. The Church hath taken this matter into her own hands, and claims yon barren hide as a relic.”

”Well,--I don't see why the Church can't let good sport alone,”

retorted Sir G.o.dfrey.

”Hope she'll not take to breaking up my c.o.c.k-fights this way,”

muttered the Count de Gorgonzola, sulkily.

”The Church cares nothing for such profane frivolities,” observed Father Anselm with cold dignity.

”At all events, friends,” said Sir G.o.dfrey, cheering up, ”the country is rid of the Dragon of Wantley, and we've got a wedding and a breakfast left.”

Just at this moment a young horseman rode furiously into the court-yard.

It was Roland, Sir G.o.dfrey's son. ”Great news!” he began at once.

”Another Crusade has been declared--and I am going. Merry Christmas!

Where's Elaine? Where's the Dragon?”

Father Anselm's quick brain seized this chance. He and his monks should make a more stately exit than he had planned.

”See,” he said in a clear voice to his monks, ”how all is coming true that was revealed to me this night! My son,” he continued, turning to young Roland, ”thy brave resolve reached me ere thou hadst made it.