a pair of new calves, gave
orders to Meeson and Welsby, and kept little Whelpdale panting for
breath with errands; while in and out, between everybody's legs, and
over or under all obstacles, stalked the two ravens Croak James and
Croak Elizabeth, a big white wedding-favour tied round the neck of
each. To see these grave birds, none would have suspected how
frequently they had been in the mince-pies that morning, though Popham
had expressly ruled (in somewhat stilted language) that they should
"take nothink by their bills."

"Geoffrey," said the Baron, "I think we'll begin. Popham, tell them to
light that fire there."

"The guests are still coming, sir," said Geoffrey.

"No matter. It is half after eleven." The Baron showed his sun-dial,
and there was no doubt of it. "Here, take the keys," he said, "and
bring the monster out for us."

"I'll go and put on my armour," suggested the young man. That would
take time; perhaps the monks might arrive.

"Why, the brute's chained. You need no armour. Nonsense!"

"But think of my clothes in that pit, sir,--on my wedding-day."

"Pooh! That's the first sign of a Frenchman I've seen in you. Take the
keys, sir."

The crackle of the kindling fagots came to Geoffrey's ears. He saw the
forty men with chains that were to haul the Dragon into the fire.

"But there's Father Anselm yet to come," he protested. "Surely we wait
for him."

[Illustration]

"I'll wait for nobody. He with his Crusades and rubbish! Haven't I got
this Dragon, and there's no Crusade?--Ah, Cousin Modus, glad you
could come over. Just in time. The sherry's to your left. Yes, it's a
very fine day. Yes, yes, this is Geoffrey my girl's to marry and all
that.--What do I care about Father Anselm?" the old gentleman resumed
testily, when his cousin Modus had shuffled off. "Come, sir."

He gave the keys into Geoffrey's unwilling hand, and ordered silence
proclaimed.

"Hearken, good friends!" said he, and all talk and going to and fro
ceased. The tenantry stood down in the court-yard, a mass of
motionless russet and yellow, every face watching the Baron. The
gentry swarmed noiselessly out upon the steps behind him, their
handsome dresses bright against the Manor walls. There was a short
pause. Old Gaffer Piers made a slight disturbance falling over with
his cup of ale, but was quickly set on his feet by his neighbours. The
sun blazed down, and the growling of the Dragon came from the pit.

"Yonder noise," pu