"Now don't you be afraid," he added kindly. "I've marked my
spot exactly, and he's sure to give me all the assistance in his
power, because he knows it's his only chance of being asked to the
banquet!"
St. George now shortened his spear, bringing the butt well up
under his arm; and, instead of galloping as before, trotted smartly
towards the dragon, who crouched at his approach, flicking his tail
till it cracked in the air like a great cart-whip. The Saint
wheeled as he neared his opponent and circled warily round him,
keeping his eye on the spare place; while the dragon, adopting
similar tactics, paced with caution round the same circle,
occasionally feinting with his head. So the two sparred for an
opening, while the spectators maintained a breathless silence.
Though the round lasted for some minutes, the end was so swift
that all the Boy saw was a lightning movement of the Saint's arm,
and then a whirl and a confusion of spines, claws, tail, and flying
bits of turf. The dust cleared away, the spectators whooped and ran
in cheering, and the Boy made out that the dragon was down, pinned
to the earth by the spear, while St. George had dismounted, and
stood astride of him.
It all seemed so genuine that the Boy ran in breathlessly,
hoping the dear old dragon wasn't really hurt. As he approached,
the dragon lifted one large eyelid, winked solemnly, and collapsed
again. He was held fast to earth by the neck, but the Saint had hit
him in the spare place agreed upon, and it didn't even seem to
tickle.
"Bain't you goin' to cut 'is 'ed orf, master?" asked one of the
applauding crowd. He had backed the dragon, and naturally felt a
trifle sore.
"Well, not to-day, I think," replied St. George, pleasantly.
"You see, that can be done at any time. There's no hurry at all. I
think we'll all go down to the village first, and have some
refreshment, and then I'll give him a good talking-to, and you'll
find he'll be a very different dragon!"
At that magic word refreshment the whole crowd formed up in
procession and silently awaited the signal to start. The time for
talking and cheering and betting was past, the hour for action had
arrived. St. George, hauling on his spear with both hands, released
the dragon, who rose and shook himself and ran his eye over his
spikes and scales and things, to see that they were all in order.
Then the Saint mounted and led off the procession, the dragon
following meekly in the company of the Boy, while the thirsty
spectators kept at a respectful interval behind.
There were great doings when they got down to the village again,
and had formed up in front of the inn. After refreshment St. George
made a speech, in which he informed his audience that he had
removed their direful scourge, at a great deal of trouble and
inconvenience to himself, and now they weren't to go about
grumbling and fancying they'd got grievances, because they hadn't.
And they shouldn't be so fond of fights, because next time they
might have to do the fighting themselves, which would not be the
same thing at all. And there was a certain badger in the inn
stables which had got to be released at once, and he'd come and see
it done himself. Then he told them that the dragon had been
thinking over things, and saw that there were two sides to every
question, and he wasn't going to do it any more, and if they were
good perhaps he'd stay and settle down there. So they must make
friends, and not be prejudiced; and go about fancying they knew
everything there was to be known, because they didn't, not by a
long way. And he warned them against the sin of romancing, and
making up stories and fancying other people would believe them just
because they were plausible and highly-coloured. Then he sat down,
amidst much repentant cheering, and the dragon nudged the Boy in
the ribs and whispered that he couldn't have done it better
himself. Then every one went off to get ready for the banquet.
Banquets are always pleasant things, consisting mostly, as they
do, of eating and drinking; but the specially nice thing about a
banquet is, that it comes when something's over, and there's
nothing more to worry about, and to-morrow seems a long way off. St
George was happy because there had been a fight and he hadn't had
to kill anybody; for he didn't really like killing, though he
generally had to do it. The dragon was happy because there had been
a fight, and so far from being hurt in it he had won popularity and
a sure footing in society. The Boy was happy because there had been
a fight, and in spite of it all his two friends were on the best of
terms. And all the others were happy because there had been a
fight, and—well, they didn't require any other reasons for their
happiness. The dragon exerted himself to say the right thing to
everybody, and proved the life and soul of the evening; while the
Saint and the Boy, as they looked on, felt that they were only
assisting at a feast of which the honour and the glory were
entirely the dragon's. But they didn't mind that, being good
fellows, and the dragon was not in the least proud or forgetful.
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