“Oh, oh!” went Miss Elaine, with her head against his shoulder.
“There, there! You’re sweeter than all the dragons in the world, my little girl,” said he. And although this does not appear to be a great compliment, it comforted her wonderfully in the end; for he said it in her ear several times without taking his lips away. “Yes,” he continued, “I was a fool. By your father’s own word you’re mine. I have caught the Dragon. Come, my girl! We’ll down to the refectory forthwith and denounce him.”
With this, he seized Elaine’s hand and hastily made for the stairs.
“But hold, Geoffrey, hold! Oh—I am driven to act not as maidens should,” sighed Elaine. “He it is who ought to do the thinking. But, dear me! he does not know how. Do you not see we should both be lost, were you to try any such wild plan?”
“Not at all. Your father would give you to me.”
“Oh, no, no, Geoffrey; indeed, papa would not. His promise was about a dragon. A live or a dead dragon must be brought to him. Even if he believed you now, even if that dreadful Father Anselm could not invent some lie to put us in the wrong, you and I could never—that is—papa would not feel bound by his promise simply because you did that. There must be a dragon somehow.”
“How can there be a dragon if there is not a dragon?” asked Geoffrey.
“Wait, wait, Geoffrey! Oh, how can I think of everything all at once?” and Elaine pressed her hands to her temples.
“Darling,” said the knight, with his arms once more around her, “let us fly now.”
“Now? They would catch us at once.”