f handkerchiefs told
that something was visible to them which the Boy, far up towards the
dragon-end of the line as he was, could not yet see. A minute more and
St. George's red plumes topped the hill, as the Saint rode slowly forth
on the great level space which stretched up to the grim mouth of the
cave. Very gallant and beautiful he looked, on his tall war-horse,
his golden armour glancing in the sun, his great spear held erect, the
little white pennon, crimson-crossed, fluttering at its point. He drew
rein and remained motionless. The lines of spectators began to give back
a little, nervously; and even the boys in front stopped pulling hair and
cuffing each other, and leaned forward expectant.

"Now then, dragon!" muttered the Boy impatiently, fidgeting where
he sat. He need not have distressed himself, had he only known. The
dramatic possibilities of the thing had tickled the dragon immensely,
and he had been up from an early hour, preparing for his first public
appearance with as much heartiness as if the years had run backwards,
and he had been again a little dragonlet, playing with his sisters on
the floor of their mother's cave, at the game of saints-and-dragons, in
which the dragon was bound to win.

A low muttering, mingled with snorts, now made itself heard; rising to
a bellowing roar that seemed to fill the plain. Then a cloud of smoke
obscured the mouth of the cave, and out of the midst of it the dragon
himself, shining, sea-blue, magnificent, pranced splendidly forth;
and everybody said, "Oo-oo-oo!" as if he had been a mighty rocket! His
scales were glittering, his long spiky tail lashed his sides, his claws
tore up the turf and sent it flying high over his back, and smoke
and fire incessantly jetted from his angry nostrils. "Oh, well done,
dragon!" cried the Boy, excitedly. "Didn't think he had it in him!" he
added to himself.

St. George lowered his spear, bent his head, dug his heels into his
horse's sides, and came thundering over the turf. The dragon charged
with a roar and a squeal,--a great blue whirling combination of coils
and snorts and clashing jaws and spikes and fire.

"Missed!" yelled the crowd. There was a moment's entanglement of golden
armour and blue-green coils, and spiky tail, and then the great horse,
tearing at his bit, carried the Saint, his spear swung high in the air,
almost up to the mouth of the cave.

The dragon sat down and barked viciously, while St. George with
difficu