sk."

At this moment, amidst a clatter that was indescribable, the Griffin,
looking a most ungainly object, came gallumping into the open space.

The Griffin appeared to be all wings, and scales, and claws, yet this
somewhat grisly appearance was entirely misleading, for he possessed an
amiable, although foolish disposition, whilst his expression owed much
of its peculiarity to a habit he had acquired of breaking into broad
smiles of astonished self-appreciation. The Griffin was very vain, and
the one thing he craved for was notoriety.

"Good evening, Lionel; where's George?" demanded the Griffin. "I don't
see him."

"You'll see quite enough of him before he's finished with you,"
retorted the Pleasant-Faced Lion, loftily. "However, here he comes."

St. George at this moment entered the wide stone space immediately in
front of the Lion, to whom he made a profound salute.

St. George looked very handsome in his scaly armour, and his short
bright sword glistened blue in the half light. Ridgwell had little
time to notice other details, for two horsemen came galloping in.

Both were in armour and both were mounted upon beautiful horses.

"Who are they?" asked Ridgwell.

"Don't you see?" whispered the Lion. "King Richard I. and King Charles
I. Ah," sighed the Lion, "what a noble figure Richard is! He is my
special favourite; you see," explained the Lion, "he is named after me."

"Is he?"

"Of course. Is he not called Richard Coeur-de-Lion? I am de-Lion,"
announced the Lion proudly. "He carried a picture of me on his shield
once. You may notice," proceeded the Lion, "that King Charles
unfortunately rides slightly upon one side. It is not his fault, but
owing to the fact that he has no girth to his saddle."

The horsemen wheeled one to either end of the arena before bringing
their horses to a standstill.

The two opponents, St. George and the Griffin, stood facing each other
in the centre, waiting for the combat to commence.

"Before we start," announced the Lion, "I am the Judge. There is, of
course, to be no bloodshed; indeed," he added, in his wisest and most
judicial manner, "bloodshed is impossible. The Griffin is almost
over-protected (if I can use such a term) with scales, St. George is
fully covered with armour. The Griffin possesses his remarkable claws,
St. George a flat sword, so both are well matched. Therefore the
contest resolves itself into a trial of skill and strength. Both shal