by E. Nesbit
CHAPTER IV
THE DRAGON-SLAYER
When Philip walked up the domino path and under the vast arch into thedarkness beyond, his heart felt strong with high resolve. His legs,however, felt weak; strangely weak, especially about the knees. Thedoorway was so enormous, that which lay beyond was so dark, and hehimself so very very small. As he passed under the little gateway whichhe had built of three dominoes with the little silver knight in armouron the top, he noticed that he was only as high as a domino, and youknow how very little that is.
Philip went along the domino path. He had to walk carefully, for to himthe spots on the dominoes were quite deep hollows. But as they wereblack they were easy to see. He had made three arches, one beyondanother, of two pairs of silver candlesticks with silver inkstands onthe top of them. The third pair of silver candlesticks had a book onthe top of them because there were no more inkstands. And when he hadpassed through the three silver arches, he stopped.
Beyond lay a sort of velvety darkness with white gleams in it. And ashis eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he saw that he was in agreat hall of silver pillars, gigantic silver candlesticks they seemedto be, and they went in long vistas this way and that way and every way,like the hop-poles in a hop-field, so that whichever way you turned, along pillared corridor lay in front of you.
Philip had no idea which way he ought to go. It seemed most unlikelythat he would find Lucy in a dark hall with silver pillars.
'All the same,' he said, 'it's not so dark as it was, by long chalks.'
It was not. The silver pillars had begun to give out a faint soft glowlike the silver phosphorescence that lies in sea pools in summer time.
'It's lucky too,' he said, 'because of the holes in the floor.'
The holes were the spots on the dominoes with which the pillared hallwas paved.
'I wonder what part of the city where Lucy is I shall come out at?'Philip asked himself. But he need not have troubled. He did not comeout at all. He walked on and on and on and on and on. He thought he waswalking straight, but really he was turning first this way and thenthat, and then the other way among the avenues of silver pillars whichall looked just alike.
He was getting very tired, and he had been walking a long time, beforehe came to anything that was not silver pillars and velvet black underinvisible roofs, and floor paved with dominoes laid very close together.
'Oh, I am glad!' he said at last, when he saw the pavement narrow to asingle line of dominoes just like the path he had come in by. There wasan arch too, like the arch by which he had come in. And then heperceived in a shock of miserable surprise that it was, in fact, thesame arch and the same domino path. He had come back, after all thatwalking, to the point from which he had started. It was most mortifying.So silly! Philip sat down on the edge of the domino path to rest andthink.
'Suppose I just walk out and don't believe in magic any more?' he saidto himself. 'Helen says magic can only happen to people who believe inmagic. So if I just walked out and didn't believe as hard as ever Icould, I should be my own right size again, and Lucy would be back, andthere wouldn't _be_ any magic.'
He walked on and on and on.]
'Yes, but,' said that voice that always would come and join in wheneverPhilip was talking to himself, 'suppose Lucy _does_ believe it? Thenit'll all go on for her, whatever _you_ believe, and she _won't_ beback. Besides, you know you've _got_ to believe it, because it's true.'
'Oh, bother!' said Philip; 'I'm tired. I don't want to go on.'
'You shouldn't have deserted Lucy,' said the tiresome voice, 'then youwouldn't have had to go back to look for her.'
'But I can't find my way. How can I find my way?'
'You know well enough. Fix your eyes on a far-off pillar and walkstraight to it, and when you're nearly there fix your eyes a littlefarther. You're bound to come out somewhere.'
'But I'm tired and it's so lonely,' said Philip.
'Lucy's lonely too,' said the voice.
'Drop it!' said Philip. And he got up and began to walk again. Also hetook the advice of that worrying voice and fixed his eyes on a distantpillar.
'But why should I bother?' he said; 'this is a sort of dream.'
'Even if it _were_ a dream,' said the voice, 'there are adventures init. So you may as well be adventurous.'
'Oh, all right,' said Philip, and on he went.
And by walking very carefully and fixing his eyes a long way off, he didat last come right through the hall of silver pillars, and saw beyondthe faint glow of the pillars the blue light of day. It shone verybrightly through a very little door, and when Philip came to that doorhe went through it without hesitation. And there he was in a big field.It was rather like the illimitable prairie, only there were greatpatches of different-coloured flowers. Also there was a path across it,and he followed the path.
'Because,' he said, 'I'm more likely to meet Lucy. Girls always keep topaths. They never explore.'
Which just shows how little he knew about girls.
He looked back after a while, to see what the hall of pillars lookedlike from outside, but it was already dim in the mists of distance.
But ahead of him he saw a great rough building, rather like Stonehenge.
'I wish I'd come into the other city where the people are, and thesoldiers, and the greyhounds, and the cocoa-nuts,' he told himself.'There's nobody here at all, not even Lucy.'
The loneliness of the place grew more and more unpleasing to Philip.But he went on. It seemed more reasonable than to go back.
'I ought to be very hungry,' he said; 'I must have been walking forhours.' But he wasn't hungry. It may have been the magic, or it may havebeen the odd breakfast he had had. I don't know. He spoke aloud becauseit was so quiet in that strange open country with no one in it buthimself. And no sound but the clump, clump of his boots on the path. Andit seemed to him that everything grew quieter and quieter till he couldalmost hear himself think. Loneliness, real loneliness is a dreadfulthing. I hope you will never feel it. Philip looked to right and left,and before him, and on all the wide plain nothing moved. There were thegrass and flowers, but no wind stirred them. And there was no sign thatany living person had ever trodden that path--except that there _was_ apath to tread, and that the path led to the Stonehenge building, andeven that seemed to be only a ruin.
'I'll go as far as that anyhow,' said Philip; 'perhaps there'll be asignboard there or something.'
There was something. Something most unexpected. Philip reached thebuilding; it was really very like Stonehenge, only the pillars weretaller and closer together and there was one high solid towering wall;turned the corner of a massive upright and ran almost into the arms, andquite on to the feet of a man in a white apron and a square paper cap,who sat on a fallen column, eating bread and cheese with a clasp-knife.
'I beg your pardon!' Philip gasped.
'Granted, I'm sure,' said the man; 'but it's a dangerous thing to do,Master Philip, running sheer on to chaps' clasp-knives.'
He set Philip on his feet, and waved the knife, which had been so oftensharpened that the blade was half worn away.
'Set you down and get your breath,' he said kindly.
'Why, it's _you_!' said Philip.
'Course it is. Who should I be if I wasn't me? That's poetry.'
'But how did you get here?'
'Ah!' said the man going on with his bread and cheese, while he talkedquite in the friendliest way, 'that's telling.'
'Well, tell then,' said Philip impatiently. But he sat down.
'Well, you say it's me. Who be it? Give it a name.'
'You're old Perrin,' said Pip; 'I mean, of course, I beg your pardon,you're Mr. Perrin, the carpenter.'
'And what does carpenters do?'
'Carp, I suppose,' said Philip. 'That means they make things, doesn'tit?'
'That's it,' said the man encouragingly; 'what sort of things now mightold Perrin have made for you?'
'You made my wheelbarrow, I know,' said Philip, 'and my
bricks.'
'Ah!' said Mr. Perrin, 'now you've got it. I made your bricks, seasonedoak, and true to the thousandth of an inch, they was. And that's how Igot here. So now you know.'
'But what are you doing here?' said Philip, wriggling restlessly on thefallen column.
'Waiting for you. Them as knows sent me out to meet you, and give you ahint of what's expected of you.'
'Well. What _is_?' said Philip. 'I mean I think it's very kind of you.What _is_ expected?'
'Plenty of time,' said the carpenter, 'plenty. Nothing ain't expected ofyou till towards sundown.'
'I do think it was most awfully kind of you,' said Philip, who had nowthought this over.
'You was kind to old Perrin once,' said that person.
'Was I?' said Philip, much surprised.
'Yes; when my little girl was ailing you brought her a lot of pears offyour own tree. Not one of 'em you didn't 'ave yourself that year, MissHelen told me. And you brought back our kitten--the sandy and white onewith black spots--when it strayed. So I was quite willing to come andmeet you when so told. And knowing something of young gentlemen'speckers, owing to being in business once next door to a boys' school, Imade so bold as to bring you a snack.'
He reached a hand down behind the fallen pillar on which they sat andbrought up a basket.
'Here,' he said. And Philip, raising the lid, was delighted to find thathe was hungry. It was a pleasant basketful. Meat pasties, red hairygooseberries, a stone bottle of ginger-beer, a blue mug with Philip onit in gold letters, a slice of soda cake and two farthing sugar-sticks.
'I'm sure I've seen that basket before,' said the boy as he ate.
'Like enough. It's the one you brought them pears down in.'
'Now look here,' said Philip, through his seventh bite of pasty, 'you_must_ tell me how you got here. And tell me where you've got to. You'vesimply no idea how muddling it all is to me. Do tell me _everything_.Where are we, I mean, and why? And what I've got to do. And why? Andwhen? Tell me every single thing.' And he took the eighth bite.
'You really don't know, sir?'
'No,' said Philip, contemplating the ninth or last bite but one. It wasa large pasty.
'Well then. Here goes. But I was always a poor speaker, and soconsidered even by friends at cricket dinners and what not.'
'But I don't want you to speak,' said Philip; 'just tell me.'
'Well, then. How did I get here? I got here through having made thembricks what you built this tumble-down old ancient place with.'
'_I_ built?'
'Yes, with them bricks I made you. I understand as this was the firstbuilding you ever put up. That's why it's first on the road to where youwant to get to!'
Philip looked round at the Stonehenge building and saw that it wasindeed built of enormous oak bricks.
'Of course,' he said, 'only I've grown smaller.'
'Or they've grown bigger,' said Mr. Perrin; 'it's the same thing. Yousee it's like this. All the cities and things you ever built is in thiscountry. I don't know how it's managed, no more'n what you do. But so itis. And as you made 'em, you've the right to come to them--if you canget there. And you have got there. It isn't every one has the luck, I'mtold. Well, then, you made the cities, but you made 'em out of whatother folks had made, things like bricks and chessmen and books andcandlesticks and dominoes and brass basins and every sort of kind ofthing. An' all the people who helped to make all them things you used tobuild with, they're all here too. D'you see? _Making's_ the thing. If itwas no more than the lad that turned the handle of the grindstone tosharp the knife that carved a bit of a cabinet or what not, or a childthat picked a teazle to finish a bit of the cloth that's glued on to thebottom of a chessman--they're all here. They're what's called thepopulation of your cities.'
'I see. They've got small, like I have,' said Philip.
'Or the cities has got big,' said the carpenter; 'it comes to the samething. I wish you wouldn't interrupt, Master Philip. You put me out.'
'I won't again,' said Philip. 'Only do tell me just one thing. How canyou be here and at Amblehurst too?'
'We come here,' said the carpenter slowly, 'when we're asleep.'
'Oh!' said Philip, deeply disappointed; 'it's just a dream then?'
'Not it. We come here when we're too sound asleep to dream. You gothrough the dreams and come out on the other side where everything'sreal. That's _here_.'
'Go on,' said Philip.
'I dunno where I was. You do put me out so.'
'Pop you something or other,' said Philip.
'Population. Yes. Well, all those people as made the things you made thecities of, they live in the cities and they've made the insides to thehouses.'
'What do they do?'
'Oh, they just live here. And they buy and sell and plant gardens andwork and play like everybody does in other cities. And when they go tosleep they go slap through their dreams and into the other world, andwork and play there, see? That's how it goes on. There's a lot more, butthat's enough for one time. You get on with your gooseberries.'
'But they aren't all real people, are they? There's Mr. Noah?'
'Ah, those is aristocracy, the ones you put in when you built thecities. They're our old families. Very much respected. They're all veryhigh up in the world. Came over with the Conker, as the saying is.There's the Noah family. They're the oldest of all, of course. And thedolls you've put in different times and the tin soldiers, and of courseall the Noah's ark animals is alive except when you used them forbuilding, and then they're statues.'
'But I don't see,' said Philip, 'I really don't see how all these citiesthat I built at different times can still be here, all together and allgoing on at once, when I know they've all been pulled down.'
'Well, I'm no scholard. But I did hear Mr. Noah say once in alecture--_he's_ a speaker, if you like--I heard him say it was like whenyou take a person's photo. The person is so many inches thick throughand so many feet high and he's round and he's solid. But in the photohe's _flat_. Because everything's flat in photos. But all the same it'shim right enough. You get him into the photo. Then all you've got to dois to get 'im out again into where everything's thick and tall and roundand solid. And it's quite easy, I believe, once you know the trick.'
'Stop,' said Philip suddenly. 'I think my head's going to burst.'
'Ah!' said the carpenter kindly. 'I felt like that at first. Lie downand try to sleep it off a bit. Eddication does go to your head somethingcrool. I've often noticed it.'
And indeed Philip was quite glad to lie down among the long grass and becovered up with the carpenter's coat. He fell asleep at once.
An hour later he woke again, looked at the wrinkled-apple face of Mr.Perrin and began to remember.
'I'm glad _you're_ here anyhow,' he said to the carpenter; 'it washorribly lonely. You don't know.'
'That's why I was sent to meet you,' said Mr. Perrin simply.
'But how did you know?'
'Mr. Noah sent for me early this morning. Bless you, he knows all abouteverything. Says he, "You go and meet 'im and tell 'im all you can. Ifhe wants to be a Deliverer, let 'im," says Mr. Noah.'
'But how do you begin being a Deliverer?' Philip asked, sitting up andfeeling suddenly very grand and manly, and very glad that Lucy was notthere to interfere.
'There's lots of different ways,' said Mr. Perrin. 'Your particularway's simple. You just got to kill the dragon.'
'A _live_ dragon?'
'Live!' said Mr. Perrin. 'Why he's all over the place and as green asgrass he is. Lively as a kitten. He's got a broken spear sticking out ofhis side, so some one must have had a try at baggin' him, some time oranother.'
'Don't you think,' said Philip, a little overcome by this vivid picture,'that perhaps I'd better look for Lucy first, and be a Delivererafterwards?'
'If you're _afraid_,' said Mr. Perrin.
'I'm not,' said Philip doubtfully.
'You see,' said the carpenter, 'what you've got to consider is: are yougoing to b
e the hero of this 'ere adventure or ain't you? You can't 'aveit both ways. An' if you are, you may's well make up your mind, causekilling a dragon ain't the end of it, not by no means.'
'Do you mean there are more dragons?'
'Not dragons,' said the carpenter soothingly; 'not dragons exactly. Butthere. I don't want to lower your heart. If you kills the dragon, thenafterwards there's six more hard things you've got to do. And then theymake you king. Take it or leave it. Only, if you take it we'd best bestarting. And anyhow we may as well get a move on us, because at sundownthe dragon comes out to drink and exercise of himself. You can hear himrattling all night among these 'ere ruins; miles off you can 'ear 'imof a still night.'
'Suppose I don't want to be a Deliverer,' said Philip slowly.
'Then you'll be a Destroyer,' said the carpenter; 'there's only thesetwo situations vacant here at present. Come, Master Philip, sir, don'ttalk as if you wasn't going to be a man and do your duty for England,Home and Beauty, like it says in the song. Let's be starting, shall us?'
'You think I ought to be the Deliverer?'
'Ought stands for nothing,' said Mr. Perrin. 'I think you're a going to_be_ the Deliverer; that's what I think. Come on!'
As they rose to go, Philip had a brief fleeting vision of a very smartlady in a motor veil, disappearing round the corner of a pillar.
'Are there many motors about here?' he asked, not wishing to talk anymore about dragons just then.
'Not a single one,' said Mr. Perrin unexpectedly. 'Nor yet phonographs,nor railways, nor factory chimneys, nor none of them loud ugly things.Nor yet advertisements, nor newspapers, nor barbed wire.'
After that the two walked silently away from the ruin. Philip was tryingto feel as brave and confident as a Deliverer should. He remindedhimself of St. George. And he remembered that the hero _never_ fails tokill the dragon. But he still felt a little uneasy. It takes some timeto accustom yourself to being a hero. But he could not help looking overhis shoulder every now and then to see if the dragon was coming. So farit wasn't.
'Well,' said Mr. Perrin as they drew near a square tower with a longflight of steps leading up to it, 'what do you say?'
'I wasn't saying anything,' said Philip.
'I mean are you going to be the Deliverer?'
Then something in Philip's heart seemed to swell, and a choking feelingcame into his throat, and he felt more frightened than he had ever feltbefore, as he said, looking as brave as he could:
'Yes. I am.'
Perrin clapped his hands.
And instantly from the doors of the tower and from behind it came dozensof people, and down the long steps, alone, came Mr. Noah, moving withcareful dignity and carrying his yellow mat neatly rolled under his arm.All the people clapped their hands, till Mr. Noah, standing on the thirdstep, raised his hands to command silence.
'Friends,' he said, 'and fellow-citizens of Polistopolis, you see beforeyou one who says that he is the Deliverer. He was yesterday arrestedand tried as a trespasser, and condemned to imprisonment. He escaped andyou all assumed that he was the Destroyer in disguise. But now he hasreturned and of his own free will he chooses to attempt theaccomplishment of the seven great deeds. And the first of these is thekilling of the great green dragon.'
The people, who were a mixed crowd of all nations, cheered loudly.
'So now,' said Mr. Noah, 'we will make him our knight.'
'Kneel,' said Mr. Noah, 'in token of fealty to the Kingdom of Cities.'
Philip knelt.
'You shall now speak after me,' said Mr. Noah solemnly. 'Say what Isay,' he whispered, and Philip said it.
This was it. 'I, Philip, claim to be the Deliverer of this great nation,and I pledge myself to carry out the seven great deeds that shall provemy claim to the Deliverership and the throne. I pledge my honour to bethe champion of this city, and the enemy of its Destroyer.'
When Philip had said this, Mr. Noah drew forth a bright silver-hiltedsword and held it over him.
'You must be knighted,' he said; 'those among my audience who have readany history will be aware that no mere commoner can expect to conquer adragon. We must give our would-be Deliverer every chance. So I will makehim a knight.' He tapped Philip lightly on the shoulder and said, 'Riseup, Sir Philip!'
This was really grand, and Philip felt new courage as Mr. Noah handedhim the silver sword, and all the people cheered.
But as the cheers died down, a thin and disagreeable voice suddenlysaid:
'But _I_ claim to be the Deliverer too.'
It was like a thunderbolt. Every one stopped cheering and stood withmouth open and head turned towards the person who had spoken. And theperson who had spoken was the smartly dressed lady in the motor veil,whom Philip had seen among the ruins.
'A trespasser! a trespasser!' cried the crowd; 'to prison with it!' andangry, threatening voices began to arise.
'I'm no more a trespasser than he is,' said the voice, 'and if I say Iam the Deliverer, you can't stop me. I can kill dragons or do anything_he_ can do.'
'Silence, trespasser,' said Mr. Noah, with cold dignity. 'You shouldhave spoken earlier. At present Sir Philip occupies the position ofcandidate to the post of King-Deliverer. There is no other position opento you except that of Destroyer.'
'Silence, trespasser,' said Mr. Noah, with cold dignity.]
'But suppose the boy doesn't do it?' said the voice behind the veil.
'True,' said Mr. Noah. 'You may if you choose, occupy for the presentthe position of Pretender-in-Chief to the Claimancy of theDeliverership, an office now and here created expressly for you. Theposition of Claimant to the Destroyership is also,' he addedreflectively, 'open to you.'
'Then if he doesn't do it,' said the veiled lady, 'I can be theDeliverer.'
'You can try,' said Mr. Noah. 'There are a special set of tasks to beperformed if the claimant to the Deliverership be a woman.'
'What are they?' said the veiled lady.
'If Sir Philip fails you will be duly instructed in the deeds requiredof a Deliverer who is a woman. And now, my friends, let us retire andleave Sir Philip to deal with the dragon. We shall watch anxiously fromyonder ramparts,' he added encouragingly.
'But isn't any one to help me?' said Philip, deeply uneasy.
'It is not usual,' said Mr. Noah, 'for champions to require assistancewith dragons.'
'I should think not indeed,' said the veiled lady; 'but you're not goingthe usual way about it at all. Where's the princess, I should like toknow?'
'There isn't any princess,' said Mr. Noah.
'Then it won't be a proper dragon-killing,' she said, with an angryshaking of skirts; 'that's all I can say.'
'I wish it _was_ all,' said Mr. Noah to himself.
'If there isn't a princess it isn't fair,' said the veiled one; 'and Ishall consider it's my turn to be Deliverer.'
'Be silent, woman,' said Mr. Noah.
'Woman, indeed,' said the lady. 'I ought to have a proper title.'
'Your title is the Pretender to the----'
'I know,' she interrupted; 'but you forget you're speaking to a lady.You can call me the Pretenderette.'
Mr. Noah turned coldly from her and pressed two Roman candles and a boxof matches into Philip's hand.
'When you have arranged your plans and are quite sure that you will beable to kill the dragon, light one of these. We will then have aprincess in readiness, and on observing your signal will tie her to atree, or, since this is a district where trees are rare and buildingsfrequent, to a pillar. She will be perfectly safe if you make your planscorrectly. And in any case you must not attempt to deal with the dragonwithout first lighting the Roman candle.'
'And the dragon will see it and go away.'
'Exactly,' said Mr. Noah. 'Or perhaps he will see it and not go away.Time alone will show. The task that is without difficulties can neverreally appeal to a hero. You will find weapons, cords, nets, shields andvarious first aids to the young dragon-catcher in the vaults below thistower. Good eveni
ng, Sir Philip,' he ended warmly. 'We wish you everysuccess.'
And with that the whole crowd began to go away.
'_I_ know who you ought to have for princess,' the Pretenderette said asthey went. And Mr. Noah said:
'Silence in court.'
'This isn't a court,' said the Pretenderette aggravatingly.
'Wherever justice is, is a court,' said Mr. Noah, 'and I accuse you ofcontempt of it. Guards, arrest this person and take her to prison atonce.'
There was a scuffling and a shrieking and then the voices withdrewgradually, the angry voice of even the Pretenderette growing fainterand fainter till it died away altogether.
Philip was left alone.
His first act was to go up to the top of the tower and look out to seeif he could see the dragon. He looked east and north and south and west,and he saw the ramparts of the fort where Mr. Noah and the others werenow safely bestowed. He saw also other towers and cities in thedistance, and he saw the ruins where he had met Mr. Perrin.
And among those ruins something was moving. Something long and jointedand green. It could be nothing but the dragon.
'Oh, Crikey!' said Philip to himself; 'whatever shall I do? Perhaps I'dbetter see what weapons there are.'
So he ran down the stairs and down and down till he came to the vaultsof the castle, and there he found everything a dragon-killer couldpossibly need, even to a little red book called the _YoungDragon-Catcher's Vade Mecum, or a Complete Guide to the Good Sport ofDragon-Slaying_; and a pair of excellent field-glasses.
The top of the tower seemed the safest place. It was there that he triedto read the book. The words were very long and most difficultly spelt.But he did manage to make out that all dragons sleep for one hour aftersunset. Then he heard a loud rattling sound from the ruin, and he knewit was the dragon who was making that sound, so he looked through thefield-glasses, frowning with anxiety to see what the dragon was doing.
And as he looked he started and almost dropped the glasses, and thefrown cleared away from his forehead and he gave a sigh that was almosta sob and almost a laugh, and then he said
'That old thing!'
Then he looked again, and this is what he saw. An enormous green dragon,very long and fierce-looking, that rattled as it moved, going in and outamong the ruins, rubbing itself against the fallen pillars. And thereason Philip laughed and sighed was that he knew that dragon very wellindeed. He had known it long ago. It was the clockwork lizard that hadbeen given him the Christmas before last. And he remembered that he hadput it into one of the cities he and Helen had built together. Only now,of course, it had grown big and had come alive like all the other imagesof live things he had put in his cities. But he saw that it was still aclockwork creature. And its key was sticking out of its side. And it wasrubbing itself against the pillars so as to turn the key and wind itselfup. But this was a slow business and the winding was not half done whenthe sun set. The dragon instantly lay down and went to sleep.
'Well,' said Philip, 'now I've got to think.'
He did think, harder than he had ever done before. And when he hadfinished thinking he went down into the vault and got a long rope. Thenhe stood still a moment, wondering if he really were brave enough. Andthen he remembered 'Rise up, Sir Philip,' and he knew that a knightsimply _mustn't_ be afraid.
So he went out in the dusk towards the dragon.
He knew it would sleep for an hour. But all the same---- And thetwilight was growing deeper and deeper. Still there was plenty of lightto find the ruin, and also to find the dragon. There it lay--about tenor twelve yards of solid dark dragon-flesh. Its metal claws gleamed inthe last of the daylight. Its great mouth was open, and its breathing,as it slept, was like the sound of the sea on a rough night.
'Rise up, Sir Philip,' he said to himself, and walked along close to thedragon till he came to the middle part where the key was stickingout--which Mr. Perrin had thought was a piece of an old spear with whichsome one had once tried to kill the monster.
Philip fastened one end of his rope very securely to the key--howthankful he was that Helen had taught him to tie knots that were notgranny-knots. The dragon lay quite still, and went on breathing like astormy sea. Then the dragon-slayer fastened the other end of the rope tothe main wall of the ruin which was very strong and firm, and then hewent back to his tower as fast as he could and struck a match andlighted his Roman candle.
You see the idea? It was really rather a clever one. When the dragonwoke it would find that it was held prisoner by the ropes. It would befurious and try to get free. And in its struggles it would be certain toget free, but this it could only do by detaching itself from its key.When once the key was out the dragon would be unable to wind itself upany more, and would be as good as dead. Of course Sir Philip could cutoff its head with the silver-hilted sword if Mr. Noah really wished it.
It was, as you see, an excellent plan, as far as it went. Philip sat onthe top of his tower quite free from anxiety, and ate a few hairy redgooseberries that happened to be loose in his pocket. Within threeminutes of his lighting his Roman candle a shower of golden rain went upin the south, some immense Catherine-wheels appeared in the east, and inthe north a long line of rockets presented almost the appearance of anaurora borealis. Red fire, green fire, then rockets again. The whole ofthe plain was lit by more fireworks than Philip had ever seen, even atthe Crystal Palace. By their light he saw a procession come out of thefort, cross to a pillar that stood solitary on the plain, and tie to ita white figure.
'The Princess, I suppose,' said Philip; 'well, _she's_ all rightanyway.'
Then the procession went back to the fort, and then the dragon awoke.Philip could see the great creature stretching itself and shaking itsvast head as a dog does when it comes out of the water.
'I expect it doesn't like the fireworks,' said Philip. And he was quiteright.
And now the dragon saw the Princess who had been placed at a convenientspot about half-way between the ruins and Philip's tower.
It threw up its snout and uttered a devastating howl, and Philip feltwith a thrill of horror that, clockwork or no clockwork, the brute wasalive, and desperately dangerous.
And now it had perceived that it was bound. With great heavings andthroes, with snortings and bellowings, with scratchings and tearings ofits great claws and lashings of its terrible tail, it writhed andfought to be free, and the light of thousands of fireworks illuminatedthe gigantic struggle.
Then what Philip had known would happen, did happen. The great wall heldfast, the rope held fast, the dragon held fast. It was the key that gaveway. With an echoing grinding rusty sound like a goods train shunting ona siding, the key was drawn from the keyhole in the dragon's side andleft still fast to its rope like an anchor to a cable.
_Left._ For now that happened which Philip had not foreseen. He hadforgotten that before it fell asleep the dragon had partly wound itselfup. And its struggles had not used up all the winding. There was go inthe dragon yet. And with a yell of fury it set off across the plain,wriggling its green rattling length towards--the Princess.
And now there was no time to think whether one was afraid or not. Philipwent down those tower stairs more quickly than he had ever gone downstairs in his life, and he was not bad at stairs even at ordinary times.
He put his sword over his shoulder as you do a gun, and ran. Like thedragon he made straight for the Princess. And now it was a race betweenhim and the dragon. Philip ran and ran. His heart thumped, his feet hadthat leaden feeling that comes in nightmares. He felt as if he weredying.
Keep on, keep on, faster, faster, you mustn't stop. Ah! that's better.He has got his second wind. He is going faster. And the dragon, or is itfancy? is going not quite so fast.
How he did it Philip never knew. But with a last spurt he reached thepillar where the Princess stood bound. And the dragon was twenty yardsaway, coming on and on and on.
Philip stood quite still, recovering his breath. And more and moreslowly, but with no sign of stopping,
the dragon came on. Behind him,where the pillar was, Philip heard some one crying softly.
Then the dragon was quite near. Philip took three steps forward, tookaim with his sword, shut his eyes and hit as hard as he could. Thensomething hard and heavy knocked him over, and for a time he knew nomore.
. . . . . . .
When he came to himself again, Mr. Noah was giving him something nastyto drink out of a medicine glass, Mr. Perrin was patting him on theback, all the people were shouting like mad, and more fireworks thanever were being let off. Beside him lay the dragon, lifeless and still.
Then something hard and heavy knocked him over.]
'Oh!' said Philip, 'did I really do it?'
'You did indeed,' said Mr. Noah; 'however you may succeed with the otherdeeds, you are the hero of this one. And now, if you feel well enough,prepare to receive the reward of Valour and Chivalry.'
'Oh!' said Philip, brightening, 'I didn't know there was to be areward.'
'Only the usual one,' said Mr Noah. 'The Princess, you know.'
Philip became aware that a figure in a white veil was standing quitenear him; round its feet lay lengths of cut rope.
'The Princess is yours,' said Mr. Noah, with generous affability.
'But I don't want her,' said Philip, adding by an afterthought, 'thankyou.'
'You should have thought of that before,' said Mr. Noah. 'You can't godoing deeds of valour, you know, and then shirking the reward. Take her.She is yours.'
'Any one who likes may have her,' said Philip desperately. 'If she'smine, I can give her away, can't I? You must see yourself I can't bebothered with princesses if I've got all those other deeds to do.'
'That's not my affair,' said Mr. Noah. 'Perhaps you might arrange toboard her out while you're doing your deeds. But at present she iswaiting for you to take her by the hand and raise her veil.'
'Must I?' said Philip miserably. 'Well, here goes.'
He took a small cold hand in one of his and with the other lifted, verygingerly, a corner of the veil. The other hand of the Princess drew backthe veil, and the Dragon-Slayer and the Princess were face to face.
'Why!' cried Philip, between relief and disgust, 'it's only Lucy!'
