."

"But," said Geoffrey again, "the Dragon started not on your premises."

"No matter for that; for you have pursued him into my warren, that is,
my cellar, my enclosed cellar, where you had no business to be. And
the Court told Ralph no matter 'que le feisant leva hors de le
garrein, vostre faucon luy pursuy en le garrein.' So there's good
sound English law, and none of your foppish outlandishries in Latin,"
finished the Baron, vastly delighted at being able to display the
little learning that he had. For you see, very few gentlemen in those
benighted days knew how to speak the beautiful language of the law so
fluently as that.

"And besides," continued Sir Godfrey suddenly, "there is a contract."

"What contract?" asked Geoffrey.

"A good and valid one. When I said this morning that I would give my
daughter to the man who brought me the Dragon alive or dead, did I say
I would give him the Dragon too? So choose which you will take, for
both you cannot have."

At this Elaine turned pale as death, and Geoffrey stood dumb.

Had anybody looked at the Dragon, it was easy to see the beast was
much agitated.

"Choose!" said Sir Godfrey. "'Tis getting too cold to stay here. What?
You hesitate between my daughter and a miserable reptile? I thought
the lads of France were more gallant. Come, sir! which shall it be?
The lady or the Dragon?"

"Well," said Geoffrey, and his blood and heart stood still (and so did
Elaine's, and so did another person's), "I--I--think I will choose the
l--lady."

"Hurrah!" cheered the household once more.

"Oh, Lord!" said the Dragon, but nobody heard him.

"Indeed!" observed Sir Godfrey. "And now we'll chain him in my
bear-pit till morning, and at noon he shall be burned alive by the
blazing fagots. Let us get some sleep now."

The cloud of slimly-clad domestics departed with slow steps, and many
a look of fear cast backward at the captured monster.

"This Dragon, sir," said Geoffrey, wondering at his own voice, "will
die of thirst in that pit. Bethink you how deep is his habit of
drinking."

"Ha! I have often bethought me," retorted Sir Godfrey, rolling his
eyes over the empty barrels. "But here! I am a man of some heart, I
hope."

He seized up a bucket and ran to the hogshead containing his
daughter's native cowslip wine.

"There!" he observed when the bucket was pretty well filled. "Put that
in to moisten his last hours."

Then the Baron led the way round the Manor to the