Kisington Town

V. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART II

After a time, Arthur and his band came to the town of Hushby, and were received with wonder; for the people thought them all mad, especially Arthur, with his butterfly-net and his boast to slay the Dragon. But they treated him gratefully, as one who sought to be their deliverer, albeit shaking their heads over his small stature and slender strength.

Arthur slept that night at the inn, intending to seek the Dragon on the morrow. And about the inn, on benches, on the curbs of Hushby streets, and under the trees, slept the merry jesters who had followed Arthur from the King. And Oscar thought to rob Arthur while he slept; but he was prevented.

In the night came the Dragon down from his cave in the mountain, and rushing up the village street nearly caught Oscar as he was climbing in at the window of the inn. Oscar fled barely in time. But the Dragon caught and ate in one mouthful two of the merry band of jesters, so that they jested no longer. Then there was a great outcry and panic. But Arthur slept soundly through it all, dreaming of the Princess, and how fair she would be when he had made her his wife and had magicked her with the glass.

In the morning bright and early Arthur came down to table. He found the landlord and all the people white and trembling.

"Oh, sir!" cried Mine Host in a whisper. "Behold, the Dragon has descended from the mountain in the darkness and has eaten two of the King's men this night. His appetite is whetted, and we hear him roaring afar off. It is a sign that he will soon again make another descent upon us. In the name of St. George, haste to save us!"

Arthur listened and heard the far-off thunder of the loathly worm. But he did not tremble. He only drew himself up to his last inch and frowned, fingering the magic glass in his wallet.

"First will I breakfast," he said. "And then will I go forth to rid you of this pest. Bring on the morning meal."

When he had eaten heartily, even to the last crumb, Arthur arose and took his butterfly-net in hand.

"Farewell, noble youth!" cried Mine Host, with tears in his eyes. For Arthur had paid his score generously, and the landlord did not expect to see the little fellow again. The landlord's fair daughter, Margot, stood weeping, with the corner of her apron to her eyes. For she admired the brave lad mightily. She was a very little maid, no taller than Arthur's shoulder, and he looked at her kindly when he saw her weep.

"What a fair, sweet maid!" he said to himself. "If it were not for the King's daughter, I would choose her for my Lady, and ask her to give me the blue ribbon from her hair to wear in my cap. But that may not be. I must win glory for the King's big daughter."

He patted Margot on the head and said debonairly: "Farewell! And have a goodly dinner ready against my return. For I shall bring with me a Dragon's appetite."

So he spoke, jesting upon the terrible subject. Margot wept harder than ever, and his other hearers shuddered. Some of the people followed him afar off. But when, nearer and nearer, they heard the Dragon's roars shaking the hills, they turned about and fled back to the village, leaving Arthur to go his way alone.

Arthur was not afraid. He strode on manfully until he came to the valley which led up the mountain where the Dragon lived. And as he strode he whistled. Presently there was a roar and a rumble and a rattle, and Arthur stopped whistling. Nearer and nearer it came, and at last, down from the rocks writhed the terrible Dragon himself. And he was far worse to look upon than Arthur had imagined.

He was as big as twenty elephants, and he was green, covered with shining scales. His eyes glowed like the head-lights of two engines, and revolved horribly in his head. Steam and fire belched from his huge mouth, and he snapped his long, sharp teeth disgustingly. He was a terrifying sight as he writhed toward Arthur. Dreadfully he roared, lashing right and left with his tail, which uprooted the trees and bushes and dislodged the rocks on either hand till they came tumbling down in an avalanche. His hot breath scorched everything about him, and Arthur began to feel faint by reason of the poison in it. But he stood quite still, waiting for the Dragon, and fingering his magic glass. It was to be a mighty experiment.

Arthur waited until the Dragon was only a few yards away. Then he put the glass to his eye and stared hard at the beast; stared, and stared, and stared.

Such rudeness made the Dragon very angry. He roared louder than ever and came rushing toward Arthur at redoubled speed. But behold! As Arthur gazed at him the creature began to grow smaller and smaller. First he was no bigger than an elephant, though still terrible. Then he shrank to the size of a crocodile; then of a lion; and finally, when he was only a few feet away, he was no bigger than a cat, snarling and spitting fiercely as ever.

By this time the Dragon began to see that something was wrong. He did not know that he himself was changed, but it seemed to him that Arthur had swelled. It seemed to him that Arthur was a terrible giant; and, for the first time in his five thousand years of life, the Dragon was afraid!

Suddenly he turned tail and began to run away, all the while growing littler and littler in quite a ridiculous fashion. But Arthur was after him valiantly. Now the Dragon was no bigger than a lizard, making a funny squeak as he wriggled through the bushes. His eyes shone like tiny lucifer matches, and his mouth smoked like a cigarette. But for this it would have been hard to see him as he scuttled through the moss and under the ferns, trying to escape from Arthur's terrible eye.

At last Arthur saw that it was high time to lay aside the magic glass, unless he wished the Dragon to escape by "going out" altogether, which would never do. For he must take the creature back to the King.

Now was seen the use of the butterfly-net which Arthur had brought all the way from Kisington. With this in his right hand Arthur chased the absurd little Dragon under a stone, and finally threw it over the wriggling body, just as one would catch an insect. Hurrah! There was the creature tangled in the net, hissing as loudly as a locust. The terrible Dragon of Hushby was caught!

Arthur took from his wallet a reel of thread and tied the Dragon securely, so that he might not escape. And then, chuckling to himself, he strode back to Hushby pulling the Dragon behind him, just as a little boy drags a toy horse by a string. It was a very funny sight!

When he drew near the inn, Margot ran out to meet him with tears of joy in her eyes, for she had been watching for him all this time. Then all the other people came running out, and they cheered lustily when they saw that Arthur was quite unharmed.

"But what of the Dragon?" they said.

"This of the Dragon!" cried Arthur, drawing from behind him the struggling creature. "Here is the famous Terror of Hushby. Behold what I have done to him!"

Folk could scarce believe their eyes. This wriggling little lizard, could he really be their famous Dragon? Then they saw his tiny, fiery eyes, and the smoke coming from his funny little mouth; and they knew it must be a really, truly Dragon. A great silence fell upon them, and every one looked at Arthur in awe. They believed that he must be a wizard who had magicked the Dragon of Hushby. But after that they fell to rejoicing, because now no longer had they anything to fear. Arthur had become the hero of Hushby.

They set him on a seat and carried him on their shoulders around the village, with singing and shouting and huzzaing. And the Dragon went with him, spitting and hissing and lashing his absurd little scaly tail inside a cage made of fine wire. Arthur enjoyed all this greatly. But especially he enjoyed the eyes of little Margot, which followed him, full of admiration. And he said to himself, "It is a fine thing to be a hero. But I wish I had not asked for the King's daughter as my reward. I could choose better now!"

When night came Arthur slept once more at the inn, with the Dragon in his little cage beside the bed. Arthur slept soundly, because he was happy and his heart was honest. But the conquered Dragon did not sleep. You see, his conscience was bad, – he had eaten so many poor and deserving persons. And that gives the worst kind of indigestion.

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

Amid hurrahs and blessings and a rain of flowers, Arthur said farewell to Margot, who loved him, and to Hushby, which he had delivered from the Terror; and once more he journeyed to the King. But this time he went as a hero, whose fame had traveled before him.

The King sent heralds and soldiers to meet him, and a golden chariot to bring him to the city. When Arthur reached the palace he found a great banquet prepared, and the King himself came to welcome him and led him to the place of honor. But the Princess Agnes was not there.

As for the Dragon, every one was mad with delight over the wonderful little creature. When the King saw him he laughed so that his crown nearly fell into the soup. He delighted to tickle the Dragon's tail and hear him spit and hiss like a little tea-kettle. He liked the Dragon much better in this small edition, for he was more conveniently handled. They placed the Dragon's cage in the center of the table, where every one could see him, and the Dragon glared fiercely with his little red eyes, but no one was afraid. How times had changed since this was the Terror of Hushby!

Then the King said: "Brave Arthur, this Dragonet is the choicest treasure of my kingdom. I will keep him in a cage of gold beside my throne, and strangers will come from the ends of the world to see him. It will make my reign famous for all time, and I am very grateful to you. You are a clever fellow, and perhaps, since you have tamed a Dragon, you can tame my daughter as no one else has been able to do, – not even the late Queen or myself. Now, then, to keep my promise. What ho, heralds! Lead forth the maid."

The heralds blew a joyous blast on their trumpets and went to fetch the Princess Agnes. Arthur found himself thinking of little Margot at the inn, and how sadly she had looked after him when he went away. But he knew that, being a hero, he must accept the responsibilities of that position and marry the Princess. He felt nervously in his wallet for the magic glass, for he said to himself:

"Since I must marry this giantess, between whom and me is little love, let me be sure that I can make her small like myself; else there will be no happiness in my family. As soon as we are wed I will stare at the big girl until she shrinks into the proper size, as did Oscar and the Dragon."

Arthur felt into the corners of his wallet for the magic glass-but it was not there! Hurriedly he searched again. It was gone! What was to be done? Must he, then, marry the giant girl and be a slave to her cruel temper all his life? Horrible thought! What had become of the glass? Suddenly he remembered Oscar, who had also been put into the wallet. Oscar likewise was gone!

Arthur saw what had happened. With his little dagger Oscar had cut the threads which bound him and had escaped, taking the magic glass with him.

"What makes your face so pale, brave Arthur?" asked the King jokingly. "Is it the thought of your dainty little bride?"

Even as Arthur opened his lips to answer, there came a shrill cry from beneath his very nose. Looking down he saw Oscar standing on the table and peering over his beaker of wine. In both arms he held the magic glass, and he was turning its shining eye upon Arthur himself.

"Revenge!" cried the little fellow, fiercely. "Revenge! I have learned his secret. I will gaze him smaller and smaller, until he goes out. Nothing can save him!"

Before Arthur could move, Oscar pressed his face to the glass and began to stare as through a window, his malicious eyes fixed upon Arthur's face. With horror Arthur waited to feel himself shrink. He looked about fearfully at the other guests, expecting to see them appear to swell into giants as he himself grew tiny. He stared at Oscar again, who should now seem larger than himself.

But what was this? Nothing happened. The guests were staring open-mouthed with surprise, but they were of the usual size, Oscar was still a tiny dwarf. Arthur rubbed his eyes and looked again. Still nothing happened. The glass seemed to have lost its magic!

Suddenly, Arthur saw what it meant. The magic of the glass was to last only for three trials. Once, before he knew its worth, he had wasted it upon the spider, the rat, and the singing bird. Once the Dragon had felt its power. Its third and last spell had turned Oscar into a midget. Now its virtue was gone. It was but a piece of ordinary crystal, and Oscar's wicked plan was foiled!

With a squeal of rage Oscar threw the glass crashing upon the floor, and stamped his foot, which made everybody laugh. It was as if a tiny mouse had stamped.

The King stretched out his hand and took up the little fellow curiously. "What is this strange insect?" he asked. "Your Majesty," said Arthur, "he is Oscar, a villain who seeks to mischief everybody. I have punished him as I punished the Dragon, because he tried to rob me of my most precious treasure. He can do no more harm, I think."

"Oscar!" said the King. "Indeed, I know him well. More than once has he done evil in my city, and I have long meant to punish him. You are a clever fellow to handle him so tactfully. And now, we will dub him 'Companion of the Dragon.' He, too, shall have a little cage of gold and shall live with the Dragon for his neighbor. A quaint pair they, Arthur! I thank you for them. But where is my daughter, and why does she delay?"

With horror Arthur heard these words. He had forgotten the Princess. Alas! The glass had lost its power. How then was he to magic her and make her small, as he had hoped to do? How was he to tame this terrible big girl and make her a nice little wife? Arthur wished that he had never set out to be a hero; he awaited the approach of his bride with terror far greater than he had felt in the Dragon's glen.

Presently the heralds came back to the King, and their faces were very grave. "Your Majesty," they said, "we cannot bring the Princess. She has gone; she has fled from the Kingdom with the first royal coachman, who was a handsome young giant after her own heart. Even now they must be far beyond the border of the neighboring Kingdom. She was heard to say that she would have no dwarf for a husband, however great a hero he might be. And when she knew what had happened to the Dragon of Hushby, she was afraid."

There was silence in the banquet hall. Then the King struck a blow on the table with his fist that made the Dragon hop and hiss nervously, while Oscar fell over and bumped his head on a salt cellar. "Well," said the King, "so be it! She was an ill-tempered jade, and I could do nothing with her. You are well rid of her, brave Arthur. But how can I amend this insult to your dignity? Ask of me whatever you choose, and it will not be enough."

Now, instead of looking sad, Arthur's face was shining with joy at his narrow escape. "Your Majesty," he said, "I ask no amend. The lady had a right to her choice, and I hope she may have a giant happiness. Since this royal marriage may not be for me, I must look elsewhere. But I have had enough of adventure and of magic, and I shall now retire into private life."

"Some reward you must have, nevertheless," said the King. "You shall retire nobly. Arise, Sir Arthur! I make you Knight of the Dragon, Lord of the Hushby Marches, and Earl of Kisington. Moreover, whomsoever and wheresoever you choose to wed, I myself will attend the nuptials and will bestow upon the bride a countess's crown of diamonds. Long live the hero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!"

"Long live the hero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!" echoed all the guests. The Dragon hissed spitefully and lashed out with his tail, but no one paid any attention to him. Oscar, sulking with elbows on knees, groaned squeakily. But no one paid any attention to him either.

Everybody was thinking of Arthur, and how wonderfully he had become a hero. But Arthur himself was thinking of little Margot at the inn, and how sweet her face would look under the coronet of a countess. And Arthur grinned happily.

VII. THE BARGAIN

You must not suppose that Harold read this whole story to the besieging King without pause. When he reached the end of the first part of the tale, Harold closed the red-and-gold volume and looked up.

"Go on!" urged the Red King. "Why do you stop, boy?"

"It is the end of the volume," said Harold.

Red Rex frowned. "Surely, not the end of the tale!" he cried. "Why, you have stopped short in the middle! That Oscar was up to some trick, I know. I want to hear what happened next."

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," repeated Harold. "It is the end of the volume. The rest of the tale is told in another book."

The Red King's eyes blazed with anger. "Why did you not bring the other book with you?" he roared.

"I was not sure that Your Majesty would like the tale," said Harold. "Besides, they will allow one to take from the library but one book at a time from a set of volumes."

"Then you must return and get the next volume immediately," commanded Red Rex. "I must know what happened to Arthur in his quest of the Dragon. Take the flag of truce and go back to Kisington; and let it not be long ere you return!"

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," said Harold, "but it is too late to take out another book to-day. The rules of the library are very strict."

"Now, did any one ever hear anything so absurd as this!" thundered the Red King, stamping like a bad-tempered child. "What is a mere library, forsooth, to have rules which I may not break?"

"You have rules for your army, do you not?" suggested Harold.

"I should say, verily!" growled Red Rex; "strict, stern rules."

"Well, a library is an army of books," answered Harold; "a peaceful army intended to help people and to make them happy; not to kill them. Our noble Librarian, who is general of a mighty army of books, must have rules as stern and strict to keep his army useful and efficient. If Your Majesty desires the rest of the tale you must wait until to-morrow."

"I will destroy the whole town first!" roared the angry King.

"Then you will never learn the end of the tale," retorted Harold.

It looked as if Harold were in great danger, in spite of the flag of truce. Red Rex stormed and ranted, and his soldiers stood ready with their weapons to do whatever he should bid them. But after a while the warrior's wrath somewhat calmed itself, and shortly he began to chuckle noisily.

"True!" he said. "If I destroy the library I shall not know the end of that tale. That would be a calamity! Well, it is now too late to resume the siege to-day. I may as well continue the truce until to-morrow. But see that you return early in the morning, with the rest of the tale."

Once more Harold shook his head. "I must go to Church to-morrow morning," he replied. "It is Sunday, you know. Surely, you do not fight on Sundays, Your Majesty?"

The Red King looked at him sideways. "I had forgotten Sunday," he said. "I have mislaid my calendar. Now, you remind me, – no, I suppose not. No, I do not fight on Sundays."

"I thought not!" said Harold, relieved. "It would not be quite knightly, would it? I will return to-morrow afternoon, as soon as I have had my dinner; and then we will go on with the story of the Dragon of Hushby. Good day, Your Majesty!"

"Good day!" growled Red Rex, watching him march away between the files of soldiers. "Youngster!" he called after the boy, "be sure you bring back the right volume."

Harold waved his hand in assent.

Now, when Harold told the Librarian and the other Leading Citizens what he had done, they were greatly pleased; for they saw that their city was safe for at least eighteen hours, while their mounted messenger went speeding to King Victor. Harold's chums Robert and Richard were so excited they could not sleep that night. Harold's mother was as proud as a peacock when he told the story to her; though it was with some dread that she looked forward to his return on the morrow into the camp of the fierce besieger. But Harold said: -

"I shall be quite safe, Mother. Never fear! Red Rex is too much interested in my story to hurt me. When he forgets war he is a different man. He is almost pleasant, Mother!"

"What a stupid King he must be to choose war for his pleasure!" said the mother. "But suppose he cannot wait for to-morrow afternoon? Suppose he should decide to take the city and win the library for himself, so that he can read all the books at his leisure. What then?

"Mother," said Harold, "I believe Red Rex has no joy in reading for himself; no more than you have, – though he may not have your excuse."

"La la!" cried the mother. "What a King is that who has no key to the treasury of books! You are richer than he, my son. With all his armies, you are more powerful than he, my dear son!"

On the Sunday, after dinner, Harold's friends escorted him to the gate; and as before he went to the Red King under the flag of truce. In his hand he bore the second volume of red-and-gold. Red Rex received him sulkily, yet with a certain eagerness.

"Well, boy, have you brought the book?" he asked. "I have been thinking of that tale all the night long, all this morning long. Come, let us hear what happened next to Arthur and the Dragon." Then Harold began the second part of the tale. Red Rex kept him at it, and would not let him rest until he had quite finished both the second and the third parts of the story; though Harold had meant to gain time by reading only the former on that occasion.

But when he had quite finished, Red Rex sat up, rubbing his hands together. "It is a good story!" he declared. "That Arthur was a brave fellow. I am glad I did not destroy your library until I had heard about him. But now I can return to the siege without delay. I give you warning, my boy! Do not go back to that doomed town. Desert those peace-lovers and come with me to be a fighter, like Arthur."

"Arthur fought wicked Dragons, not men," said Harold. "I would not desert if I could. I, too, am a peace-lover, and there is too much in Kisington from which I could not part. Besides, I must return this book safe and sound to the library, even if it is to be destroyed soon after, or I shall be fined. My poor mother can ill afford to pay fines for me!"

"But there will be no one left to fine you," retorted the Red King. "The whole city will be destroyed, – the library, the Librarian, the Lord Mayor, and all! What a ruination it will be!" He rubbed his hands gleefully.

Harold shuddered, but he was firm. "What a pity!" he said. "You really should know our Librarian. And there are still many fine books which Your Majesty ought to hear. You will never know them if they be destroyed now; their duplicates exist nowhere."

"There are none so good as the tale you have just finished, I warrant!" cried Red Rex.

"Oh, many far better than that, Your Majesty!" said Harold. "Indeed, that is one of the least important. – Did you ever hear of the Wonder-Garden, Your Majesty?"

"The Wonder-Garden!" echoed the Red King; "no, that I never did. What means a 'wonder-garden,' boy?"

"Ah, that you will never know, for it is another of the secret tales of Kisington," said Harold. "It is all about a Mermaid, and a Lord Mayor's son, and a fair stranger maiden, who-now I bethink me-might be from your own land across the border. The Wonder-Garden was hers."

"A maid from my land, with a wonder-garden!" mused Red Rex. "I would fain learn of her. I dare say there is good fighting in this tale also. Come, boy; will you read me that tale to-morrow?"

"Yes, Your Majesty; if you will give your kingly word that the truce shall last until the story be finished," replied Harold.

"Ho-hum!" the Red King hesitated. He mumbled and he grumbled; he winked and he blinked. But at last he said grudgingly, "Well, I promise. No soldier shall advance, no weapon shall be discharged until I have heard the tale of your Wonder-Garden."

With this promise, Harold joyfully hastened back to the beleaguered city. Kisington was safe for another day! The Lord Mayor and the Librarian shook hands and went to congratulate Harold's mother.

As for Red Rex, he dreamed that Harold had bewitched him with a red-and-gold book; as perhaps he had done. Were not Richard and Robert at that moment clapping Harold on the shoulder and declaring that he was indeed a "Book-Wizard"? This is the tale which Harold read to Red Rex on the following day; the story of The Wonder-Garden.