There was another who did not sleep. And this was Oscar, the wicked. He had seen the Dragon when Arthur showed him to the people, and he knew that the strange little beast was a treasure worth far more than gold or jewels. For there was not another like it in the whole world. He meant to steal the miniature Dragon and carry it to a far land, where he could exhibit it in a museum and gain much wealth and honor. Of course, Oscar meant also to claim that this was a young Dragon which he had taken in a brave struggle with its parents, whom Oscar had killed. In that way, he would become a famous hero. In the dead of night, when all the inn was quiet, Oscar softly climbed up the trellis to the window of the room where Arthur slept. In the darkness two tiny red spots showed him where the Dragon writhed and wriggled restlessly. Stealthily Oscar reached out his hand to take the Dragon. But when he did so the Dragon gave a hiss which he meant should shake the house, but which really was no louder than the chirp of a cricket. It was loud enough, however, to waken Arthur. The hero sprang from the bed to guard his treasure. Oscar drew his dagger and rushed upon Arthur. But Arthur had been careful to sleep with his hand upon his trusty weapon. Swiftly he put the magic glass to his eye and looked at Oscar. And lo! the wicked man shared the Dragon's fate. Gradually he shrank and shrank, and though he struck fiercely with his dagger it was of little moment; for Oscar was soon but two inches high, and his dagger's prick was like that of a pin, which made Arthur laugh. Arthur was merciful, and did not put him out entirely, as he could easily have done. Dropping the glass from his eye he picked up in his thumb and finger the little fellow, struggling like a beetle, and put him under an overturned pint-pot for safe keeping. There Oscar remained until morning, a restless neighbor of the restless Dragon. But Arthur said to himself, "I have used the magic glass twice. I must be careful, for it can be used only once more before its virtue fades; and that chance must be saved to make my Princess little, since, alas! I must marry her and not dear Margot." Then Arthur went back to bed and slept soundly until morning. On the morrow Arthur said nothing about this night's event to Mine Host nor to the admiring crowd who came to see him set forth on his triumphant journey to the King. He tied Oscar with thread and put him into his wallet, where the wicked fellow snarled and scolded in a chirp that no one could hear. As for the Dragon, Arthur fastened a tiny gold chain about his neck and secured it to his doublet, so that the creature could crawl up and down his shoulder but could not get away. He looked like one of the little chameleons which ladies sometimes wear; though why they like such unhappy living ornaments I cannot tell. VI. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART III