sly.

"Why, zounds!" he exclaimed, "I left you locked up this afternoon,
and securely. How came you here?"

Geoffrey coughed, for it was an awkward inquiry.

"Answer me without so much throat-clearing," said the Baron.

"I'll clear my throat as it pleases me," replied Geoffrey hotly. "How
I came here is no affair of yours that I can see. But ask Father
Anselm himself, and he will tell you." This was a happy thought, and
the youth threw a look at the Dragon, who nodded slightly. "I have a
question to ask you, sir," Geoffrey continued, taking a tone and
manner more polite. Then he pointed to the Dragon with his sword, and
was silent.

"Well?" said Sir Godfrey, "don't keep me waiting."

"I fear your memory's short, sir. By your word proclaimed this morning
the man who brought you this Dragon should have your daughter to wife
if she--if she----"

"Ha!" said the Baron. "To be sure. Though it was hasty. Hum! Had I
foreseen the matter would be so immediately settled--she's a great
prize for any lad--and you're not hurt either. One should be hurt for
such a reward. You seem entirely sound of limb and without a scratch.
A great prize."

"There's the Dragon," replied Geoffrey, "and here am I."

Now Sir Godfrey was an honourable man. When he once had given his
word, you could hold him to it. That is very uncommon to-day,
particularly in the matter of contracts. He gathered his dressing-gown
about him, and looked every inch a parent. "Elaine," he said, "my
dear?"

"Oh, papa!" murmured that young woman in a die-away voice.

Geoffrey had just time to see the look in her brown eye as she turned
her head away. And his senses reeled blissfully, and his brain blew
out like a candle, and he ceased to be a man who could utter speech.
He stood stock-still with his gaze fixed upon Elaine. The nine
house-maids looked at the young couple with many sympathetic though
respectful sighings, and the seven footmen looked comprehensively at
the nine house-maids.

Sir Godfrey smiled, and very kindly. "Ah, well," he said, "once I--but
tush! You're a brave lad, and I knew your father well. I'll consent,
of course. But if you don't mind, I'll give you rather a quick
blessing this evening. 'Tis growing colder. Come here, Elaine. Come
here, sir. There! Now, I hate delay in these matters. You shall be
married to-morrow. Hey? What? You don't object, I suppose? Then why
did you jump? To-morrow, Christmas Day, and every church-bell in the
coun