“Your promise!” she answered, lifting a finger at him.
There was a dry crack from the crocodile’s hide.
“Villain!” cried Geoffrey, seizing the half-extricated body by the throat. “Thy false skin is honester than thyself, and warned us. Back inside!”
The robber’s eyes shrivelled to the size of a snake’s, as, with no tenderness, the youth grappled with him still entangled, and with hands, feet, and knees drove him into his shell as a hasty traveller tramples his effects into a packing-case.
“See,” said Elaine, “how pleasantly we two have you at our disposal. Shall the neighbours be called to have a sight of the Dragon?”
“What do you want with me?” said Sir Francis, quietly. For he was a philosopher.
“In the first place,” answered Geoffrey, “know that thou art caught. And if I shall spare thee this night, it may well be they’ll set thy carcase swinging on the gallows-tree to-morrow morning,—or, being Christmas, the day after.”
“I can see my case without thy help,” Sir Francis replied. “What next?”
At this, Elaine came to Geoffrey and they whispered together.