"It's just because I've _got_ to leave it to you that I'm asking," replied the dragon, rather testily. "No doubt you would deeply regret any error you might make in the hurry of the moment; but you wouldn't regret it half as much as I should! However, I suppose we've got to trust somebody, as we go through life, and your plan seems, on the whole, as good a one as any." "Look here, dragon," interrupted the Boy, a little jealous on behalf of his friend, who seemed to be getting all the worst of the bargain: "I don't quite see where _you_ come in! There's to be a fight, apparently, and you're to be licked; and what I want to know is, what are _you_ going to get out of it?" "St. George," said the dragon, "just tell him, please,--what will happen after I'm vanquished in the deadly combat?" "Well, according to the rules I suppose I shall lead you in triumph down to the market-place or whatever answers to it," said St. George. "Precisely," said the dragon. "And then--" "And then there'll be shoutings and speeches and things," continued St. George. "And I shall explain that you're converted, and see the error of your ways, and so on." "Quite so," said the dragon. "And then--?" "Oh, and then--" said St. George, "why, and then there will be the usual banquet, I suppose." "Exactly," said the dragon; "and that's where _I_ come in. Look here," he continued, addressing the Boy, "I'm bored to death up here, and no one really appreciates me. I'm going into Society, I am, through the kindly aid of our friend here, who's taking such a lot of trouble on my account; and you'll find I've got all the qualities to endear me to people who entertain! So now that's all settled, and if you don't mind--I'm an old-fashioned fellow--don't want to turn you out, but--" "Remember, you'll have to do your proper share of the fighting, dragon!" said St. George, as he took the hint and rose to go; "I mean ramping, and breathing fire, and so on!" "I can _ramp_ all right," replied the dragon, confidently; "as to breathing fire, it's surprising how easily one gets out of practice; but I'll do the best I can. Good-night!" They had descended the hill and were almost back in the village again, when St. George stopped short, "_Knew_ I had forgotten something," he said. "There ought to be a Princess. Terror-stricken and chained to a rock, and all that sort of thing. Boy, can't you arrange a Princess?" The Boy was in the middle of a tremendous yawn. "I'm tired to death," he wailed, "and I _can't_ arrange a Princess, or anything more, at this time of night. And my mother's sitting up, and _do_ stop asking me to arrange more things till to-morrow!" * * * * *