The Dragon of Wantley: His Tale Page 10

  CHAPTER VII

  Shows what curious Things you may see, if you don't go to Bed when you are sent

  GEOFFREY]

  To have steered a sudden course among dangerous rocks and rapids andcome safe through, puts in the breast of the helmsman a calm contentwith himself, for which no man will blame him. What in this world isthere so lifts one into complacency as the doing of a bold andcool-headed thing? Let the helmsman sleep sound when he has got toland! But if his content overtake him still on the water, so that hegrows blind to the treacherous currents that eddy where all looksplacid to the careless eye, let him beware!

  Sir Francis came in front of the cage where sat young Geoffrey inside,on the floor. The knight had put his head down between his knees, andseemed doleful enough.

  "Aha!" thought Sir Francis, giving the motionless figure a dark look,"my hawk is moulting. We need scarcely put a hood on such a tersel."

  Next he looked at the shut door of the closet, and a shaft of alarmshot through him to see the keys hanging for anybody to make use ofthem that pleased. He thought of Elaine, and her leaving the tablewithout his seeing her go. What if she had paid this room a visit?

  "Perhaps that bird with head under wing in there," he mused, lookingonce more at Geoffrey, "is not the simple-witted nestling he looks. Myson!" he called.

  But the youth did not care to talk, and so showed no sign.

  "My son, peace be with you!" repeated Father Anselm, coming to thebars and wearing a benevolent mien.

  Geoffrey remained quite still.

  "If repentance for thy presumption hath visited thee----" went on theFather.

  "Hypocrite!" was the word that jumped to the youth's lips; butfortunately he stopped in time, and only moved his legs with someimpatience.

  "I perceive with pain, my son," said Father Anselm, "that repentancehath not yet visited thee. Well, 'twill come. And that's a blessingtoo," he added, sighing very piously.

  "He plays a part pretty well," thought Geoffrey as he listened. "Sowill I." Then he raised his head.

  "How long am I to stay in this place?" he inquired, taking a tone ofsullen humour, such as he thought would fit a prisoner.

  "Certainly until thy present unbridled state of sin is purged out ofthee," replied the Father.

  "Under such a dose as thou art," Geoffrey remarked, "that will besoon."

  "This is vain talk, my son," said the Abbot. "Were I of the childrenof this world, my righteous indignation----"

  "Pooh!" said Geoffrey.

  "----would light on thee heavily. But we who have renounced the worldand its rottenness" (here his voice fell into a manner of chanting)"make a holiday of forgiving injuries, and find a pleasure even inpain."

  "Open this door then," Geoffrey answered, "and I'll provide thee witha whole week of joy."

  "Nay," said Father Anselm, "I had never gathered from thy face thatthou wert such a knave."

  "At least in the matter of countenances I have the advantage of thee,"the youth observed.

  "I perceive," continued the Father, "that I must instruct thy spiritin many things,--submission, among others. Therefore thou shalt bidewith us for a month or two."

  "That I'll not!" shouted Geoffrey, forgetting his role of prisoner.

  "She cannot unlock thee," Father Anselm said, with much art slippingElaine into the discourse.

  Geoffrey glared at the Abbot, who now hoped to lay a trap for him bymeans of his temper. So he went further in the same direction. "Herwords are vainer than most women's," he said; "though a lover wouldtrust in them, of course."

  The knight swelled in his rage, and might have made I know not whatunsafe rejoinder; but the cords that Elaine had wound about himnaturally tightened as he puffed out, and seemed by their pressure tocheck his speech and bid him be wary. So he changed his note, and saidhaughtily, "Because thy cowl and thy gown shield thee, presume not tospeak of one whose cause I took up in thy presence, and who is as highabove thee in truth as she is in every other quality and virtue."

  "This callow talk, my son," said the Abbot quietly, "wearies me much.Lay thee down and sleep thy sulks off, if thou art able." Upon this,he turned away to the closet where hung the brass keys, and opened thedoor a-crack. He saw the hide of the crocodile leaning against it, andthe overturned cups. "Just as that boy Hubert packed them," he thoughtto himself in satisfaction; "no one has been prying here. I flattermyself upon a skilful morning's work. I have knocked the legend out ofthe Baron's head. He'll see to it the girl keeps away. And as for yonimpudent witling in the cage, we shall transport him beyond the seas,if convenient; if not, a knife in his gullet will make him forget theDragon of Wantley. Truly, I am master of the situation!" And as hisself-esteem grew, the Grand Marshal rubbed his hands, and went out ofthe hall, too much pleased with himself to notice certain little dropsof wine dotted here and there close by the closet, and not yet quitedry, which, had his eye fallen upon them, might have set hima-thinking.

  So Geoffrey was left in his prison to whatever comfort meditationmight bring him; and the monks of Oyster-le-Main took off their gowns,and made themselves ready for another visit to the wine-cellars ofWantley Manor.

  The day before Christmas came bleakly to its end over dingle and fen,and the last gray light died away. Yet still you could hear thehissing snow beat down through the bramble-thorn and the dry leaves.After evening was altogether set in, Hubert brought the knight asupper that was not a meal a hungry man might be over joyful atseeing; yet had Hubert (in a sort of fellowship towards one who seemedscarcely longer seasoned in manhood than himself, and whom he had seenblacken eyes in a very valiant manner) secretly prepared much betterfood than had been directed by his worship the Abbot.

  The prisoner feigned sleep, and started up at the rattle which theplate made as it was set down under his bars.

  "Is it morning?" he asked.

  "Morning, forsooth!" Hubert answered. "Three more hours, and we reachonly midnight." And both young men (for different reasons) wished intheir hearts it were later.

  "Thou speakest somewhat curtly for a friar," said Geoffrey.

  "Alas, I am but a novice, brother," whined the minstrel, "and falleasily back into my ancient and godless syntax. There is food. Paxvobiscum, son of the flesh." Then Hubert went over to the closet, andvery quietly unlocking the door removed the crocodile and the variousother implements that were necessary in bringing into being the dreadDragon of Wantley. He carried them away to a remote quarter of theMonastery, where the Guild began preparations that should terrify anysuperstitious witness of their journey to get the Baron's wine.Geoffrey, solitary and watchful in his chilly cage, knew what workmust be going on, and waited his time in patience.

  Elaine cometh into the Cellar]

  At supper over at Wantley there was but slight inclination to politebanter. Only the family Chaplain, mindful that this was Christmas Eve,attempted to make a little small talk with Sir Godfrey.

  "Christmas," he observed to the Baron, "is undoubtedly coming."

  As the Baron did not appear to have any rejoinder to this, the youngdivine continued, pleasantly.

  "Though indeed," he said, "we might make this assertion upon any dayof the three hundred and sixty-five, and (I think) remain accurate."

  "The celery," growled the Baron, looking into his plate.

  "Quite so," cried the Chaplain, cheerily. He had failed to catch theremark. "Though of course everything does depend on one's point ofview, after all."

  "That celery, Whelpdale!" roared Sir Godfrey.

  The terrified Buttons immediately dropped a large venison pasty intoMrs. Mistletoe's lap. She, having been somewhat tried of late, beganscreeching. Whelpdale caught up the celery, and blindly rushed towardsSir Godfrey, while Popham, foreseeing trouble, rapidly ascended thesideboard. The Baron stepped out of Whelpdale's path, and as he passedby administered so much additional speed that little Buttons flewunder the curtained archway and down many painful steps into t
hescullery, and was not seen again during that evening.

  When Sir Godfrey had reseated himself, it seemed to the Rev. Hucbald(such was the Chaplain's name) that the late interruption might bewell smoothed over by conversation. So he again addressed the Baron.

  "To be sure," said he, taking a manner of sleek clerical pleasantry,"though we can so often say 'Christmas is coming,' I suppose that ifat some suitable hour to-morrow afternoon I said to you, 'Christmasis going,' you would grant it to be a not inaccurate remark?" TheBaron ate his dinner.

  "I think so," pursued the Rev. Hucbald. "Yes. And by the way, I noticewith pleasure that this snow, which falls so continually, makes theevent of a green Christmas most improbable. Indeed,--of course theproverb is familiar to you?--the graveyards should certainly not befat this season. I like a lean graveyard," smiled the Rev. Hucbald.

  "I hate a ---- fool!" exclaimed Sir Godfrey, angrily.

  After this the family fell into silence. Sir Godfrey munched his food,brooding gloomily over his plundered wine-cellar; Mrs. Mistletoeallowed fancy to picture herself wedded to Father Anselm, if only hehad not been a religious person; and Elaine's thoughts were hoveringover the young man who sat in a cage till time came for him to stealout and come to her. But the young lady was wonderfully wise,nevertheless.

  "Papa," she said, as they left the banquet-hall, "if it is about meyou're thinking, do not be anxious any more at all."

  "Well, well; what's the matter now?" said the Baron.

  "Papa, dear," began Elaine, winsomely pulling at a tassel on hisdining-coat, "do you know, I've been thinking."

  "Think some more, then," he replied. "It will come easier when you'reless new at it."

  "Now, papa! just when I've come to say--when I want--when you--it'svery hard----" and here the artful minx could proceed no further, butturned a pair of shining eyes at him, and then looked the other way,blinking rapidly.

  "Oh, good Lord!" muttered Sir Godfrey, staring hard at the wall.

  "Papa--it's about the Dragon--and I've been wrong. Very wrong. Yes; Iknow I have. I was foolish." She was silent again. Was she going tocry, after all? The Baron shot a nervous glance at her from the cornerof his eye. Then he said, "Hum!" He hoped very fervently there were tobe no tears. He desired to remain in a rage, and lock his daughterup, and not put anything into her stocking this Christmas Eve; andhere she was, threatening to be sorry for the past, and good for thefuture, and everything a parent could wish. Never mind. You can'texpect to get off as easily as all that. She had been very outrageous.Now he would be dignified and firm.

  "Of course I should obey Father Anselm," she continued.

  "You should obey me," said Sir Godfrey.

  "And I do hope another Crusade will come soon. Don't you think theymight have one, papa? How happy I shall be when your wine is safe fromthat horrid Dragon!"

  "Don't speak of that monster!" shouted the Baron, forgetting all aboutfirmness and dignity. "Don't dare to allude to the reptile in mypresence. Look here!" He seized up a great jug labelled "ChateauLafitte," and turned it upside down.

  "Why, it's empty!" said Elaine.

  "Ha!" snorted the Baron; "empty indeed." Then he set the jug downwrong side up, and remained glaring at it fixedly, while his chestrose and fell in deep heavings.

  "Don't mind it so much, papa," said Elaine, coming up to him. "Thisvery next season will Mistletoe and I brew a double quantity ofcowslip wine."

  "Brrrrooo!" went Sir Godfrey, with a shiver.

  "And I'm sure they'll have another Crusade soon; and then my brotherRoland can go, and the Drag-- and the curse will be removed. Ofcourse, I know that is the only way to get rid of it, if Father Anselmsaid so. I was very foolish and wrong. Indeed I was," said she, andlooked up in his face with eyes where shone such dear, good, sweet,innocent, daughterly affection, that nobody in the wide world couldhave suspected she was thinking as hard as she could think, "If onlyhe won't lock me up! if only he won't! But, oh, it's dreadful in me tobe deceiving him so!"

  "There, there!" said the Baron, and cleared his throat. Then he kissedher. Where were firmness and dignity now?

  He let her push him into the chimney-corner, and down into a seat; andthen what did this sly, shocking girl do but sit on his knee and tellhim nobody ever had such a papa before, and she could never possiblylove any one half so much as she loved him, and weren't he and shegoing to have a merry Christmas to-morrow?

  "How about that pretty young man? Hey? What?" said Sir Godfrey, inhigh good-humour.

  "Who?" snapped Elaine.

  "I think this girl knows," he answered, adopting a roguishcountenance.

  "Oh, I suppose you mean that little fellow this morning. Pooh!"

  "Ho! ho!" said her father. "Ho! ho! Little fellow! He was a prettylarge fellow in somebody's eyes, I thought. What are you so red about?Ho! ho!" and the Baron popped his own eyes at her with vast relish.

  "Really, papa," said Miss Elaine, rising from his knee, with muchcoldness, "I hardly understand you, I think. If you find it amusing(and you seem to) to pretend that I----" she said no more, but gave aslight and admirable toss of the head. "And now I am very sleepy," sheadded. "What hour is it?"

  Sir Godfrey took out his grandfather's sun-dial, and held it to thelamp. "Bless my soul," he exclaimed; "it's twenty-two o'clock."(That's ten at night nowadays, young people, and much too late for youto be down-stairs, any of you.)

  "Get to your bed at once," continued Sir Godfrey, "or you'll never bedressed in time for Chapel on Christmas morning."

  So Elaine went to her room, and took off her clothes, and hung up herstocking at the foot of the bed. Did she go to sleep? Not she. Shelaid with eyes and ears wide open. And now alone here in the dark,where she had nothing to do but wait, she found her heart beating inanswer to her anxious and expectant thoughts. She heard the wind comeblustering from far off across the silent country. Then a snore fromMistletoe in the next room made her jump. Twice a bar of moonlightfell along the floor, wavering and weak, then sank out, and the pat ofthe snow-flakes began again. After a while came a step through thehalls to her door, and stopped. She could scarcely listen, so hard shewas breathing. Was her father going to turn the key in her door,after all? No such thought was any longer in his mind. She shut hereyes quickly as he entered. His candle shone upon her quiet head, thatwas nearly buried out of sight; then laughter shook him to see thestocking, and he went softly out. He had put on his bed-room slippers;but, as he intended to make a visit to the cellar before retiring, itseemed a prudent thing to wear his steel breast-plate; and over thishe had slipped his quilted red silk dressing-gown, for it was a verycold night.

  GEOFFREY GOETH TO MEET THE DRAGON]

  Was there a sound away off somewhere out-of-doors? No. He descendedheavily through the sleeping house. When the candle burned upright andclear yellow, his gait was steady; but he started many times atcorners where its flame bobbed and flattened and shrunk to a blue,sickly rag half torn from the wick. "Ouf! Mort d'aieul!" he wouldmutter. "But I must count my wine to-night." And so he came down intothe wide cellars, and trod tiptoe among the big round tuns. With awooden mallet he tapped them, and shook his head to hear the hollowhumming that their emptiness gave forth. No oath came from him at all,for the matter was too grievous. The darkness that filled everywheresave just next to the candle, pressed harder and harder upon him. Helooked at the door which led from inside here out into the night, andit was comfortable to know how thick were the panels and how stout thebolts and hinges.

  "I can hold my own against any man, and have jousted fairly in mytime," he thought to himself, and touched his sword. "But--um!" Thenotion of meeting a fiery dragon in combat spoke loudly to the betterpart of his valour. Suddenly a great rat crossed his foot. Ice andfire went from his stomach all through him, and he sprang on a woodenstool, and then found he was shaking. Soon he got down, with sweatyhands.

  "Am I getting a coward?" he asked aloud. He seized the mallet that hadfallen, and struck a good knock against the nearest hog
shead. Ah--ha!This one, at least, was full. He twisted the wooden stop and drankwhat came, from the hollow of his hand. It was cowslip wine. Raginglyhe spluttered and gulped, and then kicked the bins with all his might.While he was stooping to rub his toe, who should march in but MissElaine, dressed and ready for young Geoffrey. But she caught sight ofher father in time, and stepped back into the passage in a flutter.Good heavens! This would never do. Geoffrey might be knocking at thecellar-door at any moment. Her papa must be got away at once.

  "Papa! papa!" she cried, running in.

  Sir Godfrey sprang into the air, throwing mallet and candle againstthe wine-butts. Then he saw it was only his daughter.

  "Wretched girl! you--you--if you don't want to become an orphan, nevertamper like that with my nerves again in your life. What are you comehere for? How dare you leave your bed at such an hour?"

  "Oh, mercy forgive us!" whimpered a new voice.

  There was Mistletoe at the door of the passage, a candle lifted highabove her head and wobbling, so that it shook the grease all over hernight-cap. With the other hand she clutched her camisole, whilebeneath a yellow flannel petticoat her fat feet were rocking in theraw-wool foot-mittens she wore.

  "Oh, dear: oh, Sir Godfrey! Oh, me!" said she.

  "Saint Charity! What do you want? Holy Ragbag, what's the matter? Iseverybody in my house going stark mad?" Here the Baron fell over thestool in the dark. "Give me my candle!" he roared. "Light my candle!What business have either of you to come here?"

  "Please, sir, it's Miss Elaine I came for. Oh, me! I'll catch my deathof cold. Her door shutting waked me up-stairs. Oh, dear! Where are wecoming to?"

  "You old mattrass!" said Sir Godfrey. Then he turned to his daughter.But this young lady had had a little time to gather her thoughts in.So she cut short all awkward questionings with excellent promptness.

  "Papa!" she began, breathlessly. "There! I heard it again!"

  "Heard it? What?" cried the Baron, his eyes starting.

  "It waked me up-stairs, and I ran to get you in your room, andyou----"

  "It--it? What's it? What waked you?" broke in Sir Godfrey, his voicerising to a shriek.

  "There it is again!" exclaimed Elaine, clasping her hands. "He'scoming! I hear him. The Dragon! Oh!"

  With this, she pretended to rush for the passage, where the squeaks ofMistletoe could be heard already growing distant in the house. Awaybolted Sir Godfrey after her, shouting to Elaine in terrorundisguised, "Lock your door! Lock your door!" as he fled up-stairs.

  So there stood Miss Elaine alone, with the coast clear, and no dangerfrom these two courageous guardians. Then came a knock from outside,and her heart bounded as she ran through the cellar and undid thedoor.

  "You darling!" said Geoffrey, jumping in with legs all covered withsnow. He left the door open wide, and had taken four or five kisses atthe least before she could stop him. "The moon was out for a while,"he continued, "and the snow stopped. So I came a long way round-about,that my tracks should not be seen. That's good strategy."

  But this strange young lady said no word, and looked at him as if shewere going to cry.

  "Why, what's the matter, dear?" he asked.

  "Oh, Geoffrey! I have been deceiving papa so."

  "Pooh! It's not to be thought of."

  "But I can't help thinking. I never supposed I could do so. And itcomes so terribly easy. And I'm not a bit clever when I'm good.And--oh!" She covered her face and turned away from him.

  "Stuff and nonsense!" Geoffrey broke out. "Do be reasonable. Here is adragon. Isn't there?"

  "Yes."

  "And everybody wants to get rid of him?"

  "Yes."

  "And he's robbing your father?"

  "Yes."

  "So you're acting for your father's good?"

  "Y--yes."

  "Then----"

  "Now, Geoffrey, all your talking doesn't hide the badness in the leastbit."

  She was silent again; then suddenly seemed greatly relieved. "I don'tcare," she declared. "Papa locked me up for a whole week, when all Iwanted was to help him and everybody get rid of the Dragon. And I amtoo old to be treated so. And now I am just going to pretend there's adragon when there's not. Oh, what's that?"

  This time it was no sham. Faint and far from the direction ofOyster-le-Main came the roar of the Dragon of Wantley over fields andfarms.