“Do I see a light?” said the voice. “Help! Give me a light, and let me go home.
“Quit thy roving;
Shalt by loving——”
“Shall I open his throat, that he may sing the next verse in heaven?” Hubert inquired.
“No, fool!” said Sir Francis. “Who knows if his brother sots are not behind him to wake the house? This is too dangerous to-night. Away with you, every one. Stoop low till ye are well among the fields, and then to Oyster-le-Main! I’ll be Dragon for a while, and follow after.”
Quickly catching up his keg, each man left the cellar like a shadow. Geoffrey, from the edge of the wood, saw them come out and dissolve away into the night. With the tube of the torch at his lips, Sir Francis blew a blast of fire out at the door, then covered his head once more with the grinning crocodile. He roared twice, and heard something creak behind him, so turned to see what had made it. There was Miss Elaine on the passage-steps. Her lips moved to speak, but for a short instant fear put a silence upon her that she found no voice to break. He, with a notion she was there for the sake of the legend, waved his great paws and trundled towards where she was standing.
“Do not forget to roar, sir,” said the young lady, managing her voice so there was scarce any tremble to be heard in it.
At this the Dragon stood still.
“You perceive,” she said to him, “after all, a dragon, like a mouse, comes to the trap.”
“Not quite yet,” cried Sir Francis, in a terrible voice, and rushed upon her, meaning death.
“The legend has come true!” she loudly said.