"St. George," said the dragon, "just tell him, please,—what will happen after I'm vanquished in the deadly combat?"
"Well, according to the rules I suppose I shall lead you in triumph down to the market-place or whatever answers to it," said St. George.
"Precisely," said the dragon. "And then—"
"And then there'll be shoutings and speeches and things," continued St. George. "And I shall explain that you're converted, and see the error of your ways, and so on."
"Quite so," said the dragon. "And then—?"
"Oh, and then—" said St. George, "why, and then there will be the usual banquet, I suppose."
"Exactly," said the dragon; "and that's where I come in. Look here," he continued, addressing the Boy, "I'm bored to death up here, and no one really appreciates me. I'm going into Society, I am, through the kindly aid of our friend here, who's taking such a lot of trouble on my account; and you'll find I've got all the qualities to endear me to people who entertain! So now that's all settled, and if you don't mind—I'm an old-fashioned fellow—don't want to turn you out, but—"
"Remember, you'll have to do your proper share of the fighting, dragon!" said St. George, as he took the hint and rose to go; "I mean ramping, and breathing fire, and so on!"
"I can ramp all right," replied the dragon, confidently; "as to breathing fire, it's surprising how easily one gets out of practice; but I'll do the best I can. Good-night!"
They had descended the hill and were almost back in the village again, when St. George stopped short, "Knew I had forgotten something," he said. "There ought to be a Princess. Terror-stricken and chained to a rock, and all that sort of thing. Boy, can't you arrange a Princess?"