Chapter II: Part 2

At an elevation of about a quarter of a mile, the Lavender Dragon pursued his aerial way. Beneath him rustic sons of the morning went forth to their labours and the pastoral life of the plains proceeded. Ahead, in a gloomy band against the western sky, extended the vast woodlands of Blore. Hither came the flying monster on leisurely wings, which flapped with a sound not unmusical, and created that æolian humming heard by those who have stood beneath telegraph wires in a high wind. The stout horse and his rider in no way encumbered him. An owl thinks less of a fat mouse than the Lavender Dragon thought of the two tons he was now conveying through the air at the rate of forty miles an hour.

But Sir Jasper remained not silent under these indignities.

“False wretch!” he cried. “Is it thus you keep your oath? Was it for this you shut your untruthful eyes at the name of our Creator and swore that you would meet me in a life and death combat upon the crest of Rainbarrow? Accursed above all other dragons shall you be, and infamous in history while man is left upon the earth to read it! Little should I have imagined that dragon could do worse than dragon has already done; but you--you are the vilest, basest progeny of an infamous breed. Your poisonous blood is upon your own head. You are lost; and if I doubted for a moment the outcome of our encounter, I doubt no more. Your fate is sealed, and whether my lance or another’s drive you out of life, die you shall at the hand of outraged man, and that probably sooner than you imagine!”

But the Lavender Dragon answered never a word and Sir Jasper, when his natural wrath was a little cooled, found reason assert itself.

It was clear that if his enemy replied, he must open his jaws to do so, in which event the knight suddenly perceived what would happen to him and his charger: they must fall to earth and be miserably and unromantically destroyed. But both were destined for another fate, and retreating into the tumultuous cavern of his own thoughts, Sir Jasper began to consider what might be expected to happen next. He felt tolerably sure that the dragon dared not now encounter him in fair fight; but would it presently be possible to force a battle? He hoped so, yet felt little certainty. The saurian had proved as artful as he was old, and his victim doubted not that, when again they came to earth, it must be under conditions where little opportunity offered to his right arm and silver lance. He was wrong again, however, for after flying above the black pines of Blore for a league or thereabout, the dragon abated his speed and hovered over a clearing, where the little blossoms of wood strawberry, cyclamen and lady’s slipper made a jewelly carpet amid the silver pillars of the forest. Gently the monster volplaned down into this sequestered glen and opened his jaws to liberate the captives.

“Compose yourself,” said the Lavender Dragon as soon as his mouth was free to speak. “Tidy your attire, doff your helm, suffer your charger to crop a little of this excellent pasture and listen to me. You are naturally annoyed; I have put you into a position destructive of knightly dignity; I have struck confusion into those exalted ideals by which you rule your conduct; but one story is only good until we have heard the other. I know exactly how you are feeling and I am well aware that my dragon’s blood is about the only thing that you suppose can wash out the extraordinary affront this day has put upon you. Sir Jasper, you shall have it--a pint, a quart, a flagon, a tierce, a barrel--but not until you have listened to what I am about to relate.

“I heard your remarks while we were on the wing,” he continued, “and I sympathise fully with your fury and indignation. You could hardly have said less; but in one particular your memory failed you and you were unjust to me. I never asserted that I would fight you on Rainbarrow. I distinctly swore that I would ‘meet’ you there. I am a truthful dragon and I chose my words and kept my oath. But let that pass. It is enough that I promise you full and complete satisfaction at a future date. Indeed, if you are still in a mind to it, to-day, before the sun goes down, you shall seek to destroy me without any unfair conditions whatsoever. A squire shall be furnished, and if your attractive war horse is rendered less formidable and agile than usual by the events of the morning, you may have your choice of a dozen other splendid chargers as fine as he, all fresh and ready for the field.”

“I fall on at once without further parley,” declared Sir Jasper. “I am a man of deeds, not words, and nothing you can possibly say will wipe this stain off my scutcheon. Only your own base heart’s blood may do it.”

“To fight before I have spoken would not suit me,” answered the other in a calm but resolute voice. “Sit here, cool your fiery forehead with a dock leaf and listen a little longer. Do not imagine that you are in my hands. On the contrary, I am in yours. I, too, believe that deeds speak louder than words, as I hope to show you by noonday. But, first I insist upon it that you listen to me, and I give you my word, as a lover of truth, that you shall not listen in vain.”

With ill grace the young man flung himself upon the turf, and for a moment there was no sound but the steady cropping of his philosophic horse, whose custom was to gather his few rose buds when and where he might. Then the Lavender Dragon, assuming a recumbent attitude, proceeded in this curious fashion.

“Even as the world itself was hatched from the Mundane Egg made by our Creator, as the Phœnicians and Egyptians rightly maintain, so all primitive orders of living things likewise emerged to life in that manner. Dragons are among the most ancient of created beings, and they have unfortunately, though not, I fear, undeservedly, personified evil from the earliest times of man. Nowadays we dragons stand as the symbol of Sin in general and paganism in particular. Satan has been termed the Great Dragon; it is declared that the saints shall trample the dragon under their feet. Mankind has also confused the dragon with chieftainship; hence Pen-dragons--leaders, or kings, created in times of peril. Since Apollo destroyed Python there has reigned enmity between my species and all gods and men who stood for righteousness; and therefore you will judge of my personal astonishment when I came to years of understanding and found myself, not only on the side of the angels from the first, but also entirely opposed to the principles and practice of my own race. In fact a dragon with a conscience--a freak of our common Mother, a caprice of Nature! My great-uncle was the celebrated Dragon of Wantley, in this county; and when he found that I entertained opinions subversive of our family interests and desired, if possible, to heal the breach established in primal time between our kindred and the children of men, he disowned me with fury, beat me cruelly, for I was then a mere dracunculus, and cast me out. My parents were already dead, and I wandered friendless for some three centuries. Then my great-uncle perished under the sword and spear of More of More Hall, a very notable knight, and elsewhere, at other times and seasons, our dwindling race was decimated by yours as history records.

“Among famous dragon-slayers--of whom St. George, that beheaded the far-famed Green Dragon of Syria, stands first--are numbered St. Philip, the Apostle, who accounted for the terror of Phrygia; St. Martha, who with unexampled courage, destroyed Terasque, the Scourge of Aix; St. Florent, who slew an ancestor of my own upon the Loire; while St. Cado and St. Maudel of Brittany, and St. Keyne of Cornwall also played havoc with our clan. St. Michael and St. Margaret, Pope Sylvester and the Archbishop of Dol, Denatus and St. Clement of Metz--all these eminent persons succeeded against us; and La Gorgouille, a very formidable and gigantic dragon, responsible for much evil on the banks of Seine, fell at an advanced age to the gallant St. Romain of Rouen.

“Thus we have gone down fighting to the last, and now, as I think, not above half a dozen of us shall be found in civilisation, though a few still remain beyond its borders concealed amid the sandy antres of Africa and the frozen forests of the North. For my part, all endeavours to make the world of men perceive that I desired their friendship failed. Nor do I blame anybody. Centuries of antagonism, suspicion and hatred, cannot be destroyed by an individual no matter how great his goodwill. I went my way, found the Woods of Blore, established my seat therein and anon encountered a lady dragon, orphaned under the usual circumstances, and alone and friendless as myself.

“We loved at first sight and contracted an alliance; but hardly had I erected a noble home and built for my wife a fortified palace and castle worthy of her, when she left me--I hope and believe for a better world. She shared my opinions and was of a tender and gentle disposition. She threw herself into my pursuits, learned the human language of the country, which I had been at pains to master, and strove unavailingly to create some golden bridge of understanding by which we could approach man in friendship for our common advantage. But, needless to say, she failed, and it was as a result of wounds, won in a frantic but futile attempt to charm a body of Crossbow men upon the march, that she lost her beautiful life.

“Anon you shall see her grave in the centre of our public park at Dragonsville. For to my city I am about to convey you, Sir Jasper; and if, after you have inspected it, consulted those who inhabit it, and heard and seen such as bestow upon me their affection and regard--if I say, after that experience, you still desire to fight with me and lay me low, upon my honour you shall be granted every opportunity to do so.

“What remains to be said you must learn at a later time; but now, if you are rested, we will proceed and be at home for luncheon. I am a grass-eater like your noble charger, and doubtless some fine bales of sweet clover hay await us both; but for you is already served such a banquet as we are happy to prepare for a noble and welcome guest.”

“They are then expecting us?” inquired the knight, and the Lavender Dragon admitted that it was so.

“I confess to my little plot,” he said. “I was quite determined that you should enjoy wider knowledge of me and my ways before you attempted, perhaps successfully, to destroy me. A thing once done cannot be undone, Sir Jasper, and if by chance, in future time, you had learned the truth, I am bold to believe that remorse might have darkened your soul and unavailing regrets cast a shadow on your unstained career.”

With that the dragon, tenderly picking up his new acquaintance and the piebald horse, ascended once more into the empyrean. They proceeded for a matter of twenty miles over the bosky gloom of the forest and then the scene changed, a fair and sun-kissed vale opened beneath them and, girdled by a mighty wall, Sir Jasper perceived what men of a later time would have described as a remarkably large and distinguished garden city, watered by a sparkling river.

Wide, open spaces, adorned with lakes and fountains, noble trees and blazing passages of flower colour spread between human dwellings. These stood in the shape of a star whose points extended to all quarters of the compass. The houses were solidly built of stone, and their roofs, of red and sunbaked tiles, seen from this elevation, presented a design of considerable charm. In the midst rose a gigantic castle of barbaric architecture--a place so hugely planned, with doors so vast and towers so lofty, that the Lavender Dragon himself might move and dwell with comfort and elegance therein. It was his home, and upon an immense terrace before the southern front he now descended.

Nor was there none to welcome him. To the amazement of Sir Jasper, half a hundred stalwart men, in the livery of the Lavender Dragon, greeted the monster as he alighted. Their faces shone with well-being and they crowded about him, cheered him, saluted the visitor with courtesy and friendship and led away his agitated horse. Others took his spear and sword; while an old and kindly retainer begged that he would follow him, where he might rest, refresh, doff his armour and presently partake of the banquet already prepared in his honour.

“I will see you anon,” said the Lavender Dragon. “This is Nicholas Warrender, my seneschal. You will be happy with him and a company of our comrades until the afternoon. For the moment I want my dinner before all else.”

The dragon led the way into his castle and settled himself with a mighty sigh before six huge trusses of sweet-smelling hay in his own dining-room--a chamber about twice as large as the cathedral of St. Paul. But Nicholas Warrender proceeding with Sir Jasper, conveyed him to an apartment, huge enough, yet not uncomfortably spacious, and there left him, to make his toilet and choose from half a hundred comely garments what he would best like to put on.

Arrayed at length in a doublet of grey velvet with amber slashings, comfortable grey hose and a collar of delicate lawn, the knight struck a bell upon his table and Nicholas returned. He led the dragon’s guest into an apartment where some two hundred men and women already awaited him, and the seneschal introduced Sir Jasper to a dozen of the party, who welcomed him with much friendship and good cheer. They were for the most part elderly; but age sat lightly about them and the guest could not fail to note that in their faces one saw no lines of care, no haggard tell-tale stamp of sorrow hidden, or tribulation concealed. Here was happiness--not simulation of the thing, proper to all well-bred and tactful companies meeting together about some common business of council or entertainment--but the genuine emotion; and furthermore he felt almost embarrassed by the manner of their greeting, for their one concern was his own comfort and pleasure. They vied with each other in warmth of welcome; they revealed nothing concerning themselves, but displayed only an altruistic regard for his satisfaction in every particular.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “would you kill me with kindness?”

“Kindness never kills,” declared Nicholas Warrender. “Kindness, Sir Knight, is the small change of a good heart, given to all who extend a hand for it, and as gladly to be received as given. Kindness, in fact, makes our wheels go round, and if it became a human habit----However, we are not here to preach, but eat. These lampreys come from our own river and are worthy of your attention.”

After the meal Sir Jasper was introduced to a great number of men and women; and others of a younger generation also entered, that they might see and speak with him. If the elders were cheerful with the light of contentment upon their faces, how much more did the same radiance illuminate the young! Maids and boys appeared equally joyous. They greeted the guest with an ingenuous delight and respect, which Sir Jasper was well qualified to appreciate, and in the shy friendship of these young people he swiftly found an exquisite pleasure. They, too, according to their ages and predilections, offered him what they themselves most appreciated. The girls begged him to come and dance with them, or hear them sing; the boys, heedless that he had just dined after a trying journey, hoped that he would join their games and suffer them to teach him new and ravishing pastimes.

Then happened a strange thing, for among those introduced to his notice, Sir Jasper heard many names not unfamiliar.

“This,” said the seneschal, “is Thomas Fagg, the woodcutter, and our friend with the dusty face is good Master Hobanob, who helps to bake our bread. Here stands Nicol Prance, once on a time a master-thatcher, but in Dragonsville the houses are all tiled, so he has learned a new trade. This is our oldest inhabitant--of course after L.D. himself--Johnny Cobley, aged ninety-five, once a swine-herd, now enjoying his old age and the object of our special care. Here you see Mistress Avisa Snell, and Ann, her daughter, promised in marriage to Billy Greg, the keeper of the fountains. This pretty maid is Mary Fern, who lost her man in the wars and was just going--silly soul--to take her beautiful and useful life, when L.D. found her and brought her amongst us. Betsy Snow and Jenifer Mardell are towers of strength when good plain sewing is to be done; and here is our last arrival before your honoured self. Come forward, Abram Archer, and salute Sir Jasper.”

The withy-cutter, last seen in the jaws of the dragon, stepped from the throng. He looked still a little dazed, as a man who has just emerged from a dream; but he was laughing and evidently well pleased to find himself among so many old friends in this flourishing settlement.

“I bring these good people to your notice,” proceeded Nicholas Warrender, “because they are all Pongley-in-the-Marsh folk, and you may by chance have heard their names.”

“I heard that they had all been devoured by the Lavender Dragon,” answered Sir Jasper, and his remark awakened hearty merriment.

“We come here to eat, not to be eaten,” said Hugh Hobanob; “for what is Dragonsville but a glorified Pongley after all?”

“A Pongley where there is happiness rather than anxiety, health instead of sickness, abundance in place of scarcity,” added the seneschal. “Here we work, but never for ourselves. Note that. Perceive, for instance, our gardens. I will show them to you.”

The company stepped into the air and many walked beside Sir Jasper as he accompanied his guide.

“We are great gardeners,” continued the seneschal. “Yet nobody ever does a day’s work in his own. Everybody applies his best energies and skill to the garden of somebody else. To cultivate your garden is very good, and we are well advised to do so, but how much better to cultivate the garden of your neighbour! It is, in fact, one of our greatest delights to create horticultural surprises for our friends.”

“Surely confusion might arise and disappointment, since tastes differ on this subject as on every other,” suggested the knight.

“Confusion does arise,” admitted Nicholas. “Thus he who hoped for radishes may find a superfluity of turnips in his garth; while the lover of kale is snowed under with endive, or spring onions. But what of it? Nothing results save cheerful laughter, and never was a better joke than when Jane Blee, who is devoted to the carrot and parsnip, discovered her garden patch obliterated under tansy and alkanet. Even L.D., who sees a joke with utmost difficulty, laughed long at Jane. But what did she do? Why, seek the gardens of her neighbours and help herself to all that she desired. For our good things are in common and our chief delight is to give of our best where it will be most appreciated. This principle runs through all our rule of living. It actuates old and young; it is the mainspring of Dragonsville: hence the brightness of our faces and the heartiness of our laughter.”

“And what is the underlying impulse of this curious vagary?” inquired the visitor. “How call you this spirit, which accounts for your well doing and well being?”

“For particulars you must listen to L.D.,” replied the grey-beard. “And when I say ‘L.D.,’ think it no term of undue familiarity, or disrespect. Thus we all speak of the Lavender Dragon, both behind and before his face. It was his own idea, for we were desirous of a more respectable and sonorous title. Indeed we offered him a crown once, and on that occasion he did indeed laugh--so riotously that he blew down a score of houses and devastated several acres of his own favourite food--I mean kidney beans. But he declined the diadem; he would not even accept the office of President. ‘I am,’ said our dragon, ‘just ‘L.D.’ to all of you, no more, no less. Your friend, so long as you will permit it, your well-wisher and your companion in this arduous business of living out the years of our lives with dignity, energy and common advantage.’”

“And tell me of Lilian Lovenot,” begged Sir Jasper. “She, too, was a Pongley maiden, and I assure you that her disappearance caused much bitter feeling, for she was loved and cherished and held the pride and top flower of all the hamlet.”

The seneschal’s face fell.

“It may be so. L.D. rarely errs; but it is true that once, or, perhaps twice, he has brought among us those who showed an inclination to return whence they came. His rule, however, is to seek out only the lonely, the sad, the failures, the care-worn and life-stained people, or the young who are unwanted and unloved--all such as have only heard of happiness.”

“Hence his predilection for orphans no doubt,” murmured Sir Jasper.

“Exactly. In the case of Lilian, L.D. judged that she would be happier here, because, among us, are not a few of her own standing and rank. For he was aware that the Lovenots were no parents of hers. He thought, therefore, of her own happiness, and I fear rather overlooked the pleasure she already gave to others--a singular lapse from his own standards. Pongley’s loss, was, however, Lilian’s gain. She is exceedingly joyous at present, lives in the Castle and ministers no little to L.D.’s own content; for, while the bulk of us are only concerned to make each other happy, and so indirectly please the master of Dragonsville, a few of the more learned and cultured--such as can speak wisely, or sing harmoniously--spend a measure of their time with him. He delights in music and story-telling, and his chief material pleasure is to sit in the great central fountain and let the jet beat down upon him as it falls. This is not always good for him, however. He is much afflicted with gout, and the distemper will carry him off some day. These fields on our right are entirely devoted to growing Colchicum Autumnale, a crocus of the fall, from whose roots and seeds our doctor compounds the medicine to lessen L.D.’s sufferings.”

They sauntered through the little, cobbled streets presently, where folk were busy about their affairs.

“We are, of course, a pastoral people,” explained the seneschal, “but there is a certain amount of industrial activity among us also and are self-supporting in every way. We grow our herds, weave and spin our wool, delve into the earth for iron and make of it our needful implements. Life is simple here, because the need for money does not exist; and even if it did, to save were impossible by reason of the law that directs and controls everything. ‘Giving,’ is the watchword here, and ‘getting’ conveys no impression to the rising generation; while, to us elders, this business of ‘getting’ merely signifies that reactionary and unsocial process which keeps the outer world so short of the content and happiness we enjoy. But hither comes the merry man of the castle. L.D. is probably anxious to see you and sends his messenger.”

It was so, and Sir Jasper learned from a jester, who now approached, that his presence in the great Hall of Reception would be welcome.

The buffoon was by no means as cheerful as many of his companions; but only a facial accident explained his apparent depression. He was a dry bird, by the name of Dicky Gollop, and he explained to Sir Jasper how, on an occasion of hawking with his former master, he had made a jest which the baron, who owned him, took in bad part.

“Before I could explain my point,” said Dicky, “the dull old dog alighted from his horse, directed a dozen varlets to pinion me against a tree, then beat me with the flat face of his sword until I lost consciousness. There he left me, still crucified to the pine, and there I must have perished but for L.D., who, passing that way, saved the situation. I regained my understanding in Dragonsville and rejoiced to abide here. I have but one daily regret, and honestly I believe that I am the only member of the community who regrets anything at all.”

“What may that be?” enquired Sir Jasper.

“My inability to strike the right note of humour for L.D.,” replied Dicky Gollop. “It is not my fault, for I really can be funny when in good form. Others will tell you of my jokes and quips, my quirks and quiddities. I am an excellent wag and make men, and even women, lose themselves in hurricanes of laughter. My repartee is rapier-like, my badinage bewilders with its lightning flashes. For a _jeu de mot_, a quibble, a conundrum, or a double entendre, there is nobody to approach me, and yet I lack the power to make my revered master enjoy the luxury of a hearty roar.”

“Perhaps that is as well from all I hear,” replied the knight; but Dicky would not allow it.

“No, my mission, so far as he is concerned, is a failure. And he knows it. He is as sorry for me as I am for myself. He tries to make me happy by laughing at my jocularity; but jesters are not deceived. Nobody knows quicker than tomfool if his tomfoolery is touching the spot; and in the ordinary, high-class establishments, where jesters form part of the retinue, if we don’t give our employers sore sides, we soon receive them. But L.D. never shows any impatience at my failure. He observes that I entertain other people, and since the happiness of others is the only thing he cares a brass button about, in this vicarious sense I please him too. As a man, therefore, I am content; as an artist I shall ever harbour a sense of disappointment.”

But Dicky’s trouble did not interest Sir Jasper. He was himself devoid of humour, and he could not find it in his heart to blame the Lavender Dragon’s indifference.

“Many,” he said, “derive no great entertainment from the glib tongues and often questionable drolleries of your class. If you do not actually irritate your master, you should be content.”

“You are not an artist then,” ventured Dicky.

“No,” replied Sir Jasper. “I am a serious man engaged in making the world better than I find it.”

“To be merrier is also to be better,” declared the mirth-provoker. “Man is the only laughing animal, and laughter is too little respected. Every child should be taught to laugh--like a gentleman; since there are horrid forms of laughter, which might be cured in youth, but not afterwards. Those who help the world to laugh, Sir Knight, are worthy of respect as great as the mighty ones, and the lovers of bloodshed and battle, who help it to cry. At least that is L.D.’s opinion, and I shall make him laugh yet if I break my heart a-trying.”

With that they entered the draconian presence together.

VI

_THE DRAGON GOES ON EXPLAINING_

Sir Jasper’s host reclined amid a chaos of woollen cushions each as large as a haystack. They were coloured amber and blue, jade green and orange. Thus they chimed pleasantly with the rose and delicate shades of lilac which played in sparkling iridescence over the vast body of the Lavender Dragon. He had eaten his hay and was now toying with a little mountain of sugared kidney beans piled up upon a plate of gold, while beside it stood an enormous silver goblet, containing fifty gallons of cider.

A girl sat on an ivory chair beside L.D.; and when the knight appeared, she put her little hand on the dragon’s paw as he extended his mighty claws to the sweetmeats in the golden dish.

“No,” she said, “you must not eat any more. They are horribly bad for you, and you know that Doctor Doncaster has told you these sugared beans should be taken far more sparingly.”

The dragon drew back his paw.

“Let me present Sir Jasper de Pomeroy, my dear Lilian,” he said, and then turned to the visitor.

“This is Mistress Lilian Lovenot--so to call her. But she and I have reason to think that her real name is otherwise. However, time will show.”

The knight bowed and the lady curtseyed, and while they became acquainted, L.D. stealthily helped himself to some more beans. Indeed he tossed a peck into his mighty mouth and munched them quickly, his opal eyes on Lilian.

She was a fair maiden with rich, auburn locks, braided into two heavy bands that descended below her knees. She wore cloth of gold, that fitted close to her sturdy but beautifully modelled body; and the bright fabric was ornamented with emeralds only. Her face was strangely beautiful and winsome, and when her lips parted in a smile, a dimple of the most distracting charm twinkled upon her left cheek. Her eyes especially fascinated Sir Jasper, for they were in lustre and colour like aquamarines.

She spoke in a soprano voice and gave him her hand, which he kissed with courtly respect. They made a striking pair and the dragon gazed upon them benevolently; but he presently interrupted their discourse and bade Lilian leave him with his visitor.

“Depart, dear chuck,” he said. “You shall become better acquainted with Sir Jasper anon; for the present he listens to me, and we have some ground to traverse. All that I must say cannot be spoken at a sitting, but if he is so disposed, we will make a beginning this afternoon.”

The maiden turned to the knight.

“Do not let him eat too many beans, or drink too much cider,” she said. And then she departed, while Sir Jasper had leisure to note the grace of her deportment and progression.

“A blessed girl,” said the dragon after Lilian had disappeared. “Beautiful both without, as you perceive, and within, as you shall find. Of her and her mystery more at another time. Now I will proceed with my own story where I left off this morning. When my dear wife died, a great darkness descended upon me and for the space of five-and-twenty years life held no interest or consolation. Do you see yonder mound beside the fountain--the tumulus bowered in hawthorns?”

He pointed out of a lofty window, where shone brilliant displays of blossom, crimson and white, upon a little hill. Sir Jasper nodded.

“There she lies, and there, ere long, I shall lie beside her,” said L.D. He heaved a sigh, like the breath of a sinking storm, and one or two tears, each representing a quart of the purest lavender water, splashed upon the cushions.

“Pardon me,” said the dragon. He then cleared his throat and proceeded.

“I even contemplated self-slaughter during the full brunt of my bereavement, but a moderate intellect and a good conscience came to my aid. I strove to create fresh interests and immerse myself in such enterprises as should justify existence and be an excuse for my long life. And then I made the astounding discovery that has taken shape in this little republic. I found that the only happiness worthy of being so called is that which we are able to bring to other creatures; and since my own race was beyond the reach of my ambitions in this direction, I turned attention to man--to Homo Sapiens, as he so humorously calls himself--and studied him with immense application for two whole centuries.

“Man, Sir Jasper, viewed as it were from the outside, is a difficult customer, and I was more than once minded to abandon my studies in despair; but I persisted and at length arrived at some general conclusions concerning him. What did I find? I discovered, first, that the thing your species chiefly lacked was humility. Man is far the vainest of created things, and his gift of reason, instead of balancing this defect, and helping him to see himself in a juster perspective with regard to his place in the cosmos, tends as a rule to increase his unfortunate arrogance and insensate pride. Rather than employ his wonderful wits to fathom and accept Nature’s law of life, he abuses his best gift: reason, and behaves in a way to put himself below lesser creatures that lack it. Nothing in the world that goes on two feet, or four, or six--that swims, walks, or flies--is ridiculous and immodest save only mankind; and everything that is unseemly and unworthy on earth arises from him alone. Yet he vaunts himself as a being supreme and in a category apart, for ever denying the one touch of Nature that should make our whole world kin. Man, in fact, is far too pleased with himself and, bogged in his inordinate vanity, fails to make the progress that Nature has a right to expect from him. He is falling behind her time-table; he is loitering by the way to admire his own features in every pool; his values and opinions, his hopes and fears, his interests and activities are all far too elementary for his age.”

The Lavender Dragon gulped a gallon of cider and proceeded.

“And why has he not travelled further on his appointed road? The answer is a melancholy one. He has doubled back upon his own high-water mark; his tides actually ebb rather than flow. The world contains evidence of a higher civilisation and worthier humanity than exist in it at this moment; for man has fouled the lustral waters of his reason and substituted for pure thinking and higher principles, a degraded and reactionary rule of conduct founded on superstitions so gross that even a simple dragon like myself, coming to their examination with unbiased mind, stands aghast before such a retrograde era.

“It is summed up in an aphorism, my friend. Faith took the wrong turning; Faith--that vital principle of progress--instead of founding her vanes upon the rock of reason and building on those mighty foundations laid by your ancient thinkers, sought otherwhere for her inspiration, set back the clock and lost many centuries by so doing. How much more time your race will be content to squander, I cannot say; how many more generations of you will still grope in the night of superstition and suffer it to discolour your thought and retard your progress I know not. Only by persisting in your vanity and by blinding yourselves and your children can it be done.

“Your rights and wrongs are all your concern never your obligations and errors. You are the most ungrateful of created things, and even that dim sense of gratitude, lying in hope of favours to come and represented by early man’s first prayer to beings greater than himself--even that was soon lost. Your religion, that might have been a fair and reasonable addition to life, became foul and more foul, because it sprang from fear instead of love, from suspicion instead of trust; and the poison that polluted its beginnings is with it yet. But given loyalty to the laws that made you, and reverence for the things you might become, rather than foolish pride in the things that you are, then the spectacle you present should lead to impatience instead of self-satisfaction, and create a great will and purpose to give reason a chance, that you may learn whereto she is willing to lead you.”

Sir Jasper concealed a yawn, for these affairs did not interest him at all. He tried a sugared bean, but found it far too tough a matter for his teeth.

“A few words more and we will proceed from theory to practice,” said L.D. “I say, then, that if man but grasped how much he owed to Nature, how little to his own ill-used gifts, he would be more disposed to humility, more inclined to develop his immense static possibilities in dynamic action. What you have done, and are still busily engaged in doing, is merely to postpone what you might do and should do. You shudder at the base instincts you discover--in your neighbours; you blame your primitive ancestors for these savage survivals; but when distinction, altruism and greatness appear, you give no praise to Nature then. No, you praise your noble selves and take all the credit. But I am boring you?”

“Far from it,” replied Sir Jasper. “I hate conceit. We are vain popinjays no doubt.”

“Possibly you do not live long enough to be otherwise,” reflected the dragon. “Your lives are too brief to attain the long view and the balanced vision which I, for example, enjoy. You are still children for a quarter of existence, and often for the whole of it. But you will be more interested in the results of my discoveries. Briefly, our little community and township is the result. I began, in quite a small way, with half a dozen old and disconsolate people, who knew but too well their room was more wanted than their company. One by one I snapped them up and conveyed them hither. I explained my idea and put it into practice by devoting myself to the pleasure and satisfaction of these lonely individuals. They supplied me with the names of others, and were in a position to assure me that I should wrong nobody by increasing my collection. They also declared that amid the superfluity of children, I might, without causing inconvenience, help myself as generously as I pleased; and this fact gave me particular satisfaction, for it is the children I was after. Comparatively little can be done for the aged, and even middle-aged, but make them comfortable and fairly contented. Their minds are set and they repose upon a body of fossil opinions, rather than seek the adventure of new ideas. But how different with youth! The present population of Dragonsville, save certain notable exceptions, was generally caught young; and the result has been that my theories, such as they are, win their opportunity. You must, of course, prove for yourself whether the results satisfy you. It is possible that you stand on other ground and mistrust reason; but be that as it may, you will please understand that this little experiment is conducted on lines of reason alone.”

“I saw a very nice church, however,” murmured Sir Jasper.

“It is a very nice church. I am coming to that,” replied the dragon. “But first a few more general precepts. Success has nearly always attended my transplantations. Men and women, removed from the anxieties and perils of modern civilisation, soon find a new sense of security growing within them and come to discover that the simplicity of this self-supporting state is worth the loss of much that the greater world can promise. For the greater world, as you may already be aware, promises so much and performs so little. The promisers are among the mighty of the earth, but the performers for the most go unrecognised and unrewarded. Here we do not promise much, yet surprise ourselves daily by the beauty of our modest achievement, and that without stifling the unconquerable spirit of hope, which enables humanity to keep going, in face of so many temptations to stop going. These temptations arise from man’s own false values and acquired defects of superstition and selfishness, and that most dreadful of all disabilities known as patriotism. But without, I say, quenching hope, I yet seek to modify that illusory quality of the human mind and re-establish it upon surer ground. The result is patience and a growing conviction that things won’t happen because we want them to do so, or think that they should happen. The prayer to pray, Sir Jasper, is the prayer you can answer yourself, and the way to pray it is upon your feet, not your knees. This, however, shocks you. I see it in your face.”

“I am not sure that I understand,” pleaded the knight.

“You should do so, for it is your own rule and ordinance. You held me better dead this morning; but I am sure you did not pray for my destruction: you set out with sword and lance to compass it.”

“Let us not return to that,” begged the other.

“You may still think it best, when you have heard and seen all. I am at your service as you know. But ‘hope’--I was speaking of this great faculty. Hope may simply breed restlessness, and so destroy a man’s present content and mar enjoyment of what he has for desire of what he has not. Again hope, which after all is a sort of dreaming, may prevent a man from what he can do, for thinking on what he would like to do. Your Guilds illustrate this inconvenience, for I observe when wages interest the workman so much more than his work, that both work and wages suffer, to the disappointment of everybody concerned.”

“You cannot banish hope from the human heart,” declared Sir Jasper.

“I would as soon banish sunshine from the earth,” replied his companion. “Hope is of the essence of progress. Hope is a precious adjunct of all reason. But the really hopeful thing about your lives is manifest in a great fact that you have yet to grasp. The very gold mine and treasury of human hope, confounding your pessimists and people with weak knees and little faith in your own destiny, lies in this: that reason, like everything else, is subject to change, and that the change, despite occasional and enormous relapses, none the less makes steady progress in well-doing. Reason’s natural growth and motion is upward, not downward; forward, not backward; and they who flout reason terribly err, because they will not permit her to do that vital work which lies within her power. At present you are on the crest of a receding wave and far beneath the high-water mark that earlier generations of men have attained; but despair not: the tide is coming in, because it is a part of the great order of things that it should do so. You must judge what man can do by the best that he has done, not from the worst; you must admit that the best can be bettered, and you must turn your faces to the dawn, rather than bury your noses in night and cry that the darkness thickens. You cannot stand still, and while men slip back, man goes onward under the impulsion of reason, that makes for righteousness despite the cross currents of greed and superstition, vice and folly that seem to hide the fact. Herein lies the most valuable function of hope: to trust man and to trust his future.”

“And, meanwhile, what must we do?” asked Sir Jasper.

“Be humble,” replied the Lavender Dragon, “and instead of seeking supernatural guides, bend your glances to earth and learn that creatures far beneath you in the scale of existence can teach you exactly those things you most need to know. Instead of demanding assistance from higher beings, whose purpose is obscure, whose friendship is doubtful, whose very existence is merely a matter of opinion, how far better to turn attention upon humble fellow creatures, whose manners and customs are plain to be observed and whose lives command our admiration. Note yonder swarm of bees collecting in the foliage upon my wife’s tomb. The unconscious altruism of the honey-bee, who does with her might what best becomes her during the short weeks of her existence, is an example so lofty that if it were practised by man the face of this world would be entirely changed. You, my friend, have an ambition to leave the earth sweeter and richer than you find it; and that is exactly what the bee achieves in her own sphere, and what I strive to accomplish in mine. And where reason rules, such an ambition reacts most favourably upon those who persist therein. For it is the solvent of selfishness, the test and touchstone of character. As time passes and the emotion becomes a part of yourself, humility appears; you are emptied of any love for fame, power or pelf; room for happiness is created, and you find, in a negation of personal good, the truest happiness that man may enjoy; for only by individual self-denial can the sum total of happiness be increased. Such a protagonist is on the right road to justify his own existence and help the flowing tide to new high levels, as yet beyond the reach, but not beyond the hope of reason.”

“And how does it work?” inquired the knight, whereupon his host drained his vast beaker and made answer.

“My own modest experience appears to work well; but, of course, it is difficult to be sure if I am really in the right road. You might guess that, where everybody strives to be gracious and useful to everybody else, a condition so unusual in human intercourse would have cast the whole enterprise into confusion; but it is not so. The people are happy and we progress in amenities of life. We live and let live; consequently we live and learn. Without a doubt we are going ahead and getting cleverer in the art of a justified and dignified existence. And the people are happy; because if they were not so, none would stop in Dragonsville. But they remain, though under no compulsion to do so; they assure me that such a life as this meets their requirements and is well worth living.”

“They never desert you?”

“Never--hence doubtless the general suspicion at Pongley, and many other places, that I devour them. Once only did a very good man--a holy clerk--declare a desire to return to his grot in the hills. He was a minister of the Christian faith, and having failed to succeed and win his flock as a parish priest, became a hermit and communed in secret with his Maker, living meantime in a natural cavern upon the fruits of the earth. I snapped up Father Lazarus at his own matin prayers, brought him here and talked to him as I have talked to you. He was much annoyed at first, but soon calmed down and enjoyed our home comforts for a season. Then he showed uneasiness and a desire to return to the desert. Presently, however--thanks to his fellow men and women, not to me--he changed his mind, on the condition that I would build him a place wherein he might worship his God and advance the happiness of those who shared his religious opinions.

“I willingly agreed, for you must understand that I am no propagandist, but welcome any ideas which directly or indirectly advance happiness. Upon one point only was I definite. But that’s another story and shall be told you at another time. Father Lazarus is a most excellent and high-minded priest, and we are close friends. The people respect him, and it is his custom to seek me on the first day of every month and devote a morning to my personal welfare. He much desires to convert me to his own predilections in the matter of religion; and since the effort is a part of his duty and gives him satisfaction, I always make leisure to attend his discourses.”

“You marry and are given in marriage?”

“Certainly. Father Lazarus has celebrated many alliances, and the occasion of a marriage is always a day of rejoicing. I hope you may see such ceremonies. Our children will be a delight to you--if you are fond of children.”

“And now a delicate question,” ventured Sir Jasper. “All you have told me, Sir Dragon, is of deep interest and instruction; but it is my habit of mind ever to look forward. What of the future of your colony? You, I take it, are but mortal, and cannot live for ever.”

“The future,” replied L.D., “must look after itself--as it always has done and always will do. I have never been one to bother my brains about anything but the present. I trust the future handsomely, as you already know, but my own concerns have been with my own few centuries. When I die--probably in a year, or it may be two--I shall be laid beside my wife; and having planted hawthorns over me, the duty of the community, so far as I am concerned, will be at an end. The greater duty to themselves I do not seek to influence. Some will probably desire to remain; others, to return to the larger world and the complexities of a higher civilisation than ours. Probably Dragonsville will disappear, when the walls return to the earth from which they were raised; and if a measure of what I have endeavoured to do and advance is carried into the greater world and proves, in its small way, of any service, I shall not have lived in vain.”

Sir Jasper nodded.

“I am deeply impressed and much edified,” he declared; “but I do not think you must ask me to stop with you. To break a precedent is a pity, and the life frankly invites me by reason of its simplicity, dignity and general charm; but my aim and purpose have ever been to redress wrong and fight evil. Here things are so happily ordered that an armed knight--a man of war such as myself--whose business is to destroy the enemies of mankind and strike bitter and bloody blows that the world may be cleaner, safer and happier--such a man, honourable Dragon, would find nothing to do in this place.”

“Why not beat your sword into a ploughshare, your lance into a pruning hook, your armour into kitchen utensils?” asked the other. “I can imagine your silver helmet making an exquisite holder for a pot plant in the boudoir of my dear Lilian.”

A slight warmth of colour mantled the cheek of the hero.

“You are not quite as ingenuous as you pretend, I fear,” he answered.

“Consult her,” urged the Lavender Dragon. “You might do worse, for to her outward charm is united a very beautiful mind, and I have little doubt that, in reality, she comes of descent as long and noble as your own. Take occasion to have discourse with her before you decide. Speaking generally, your argument is capable of refutation, for the gift of skill in the field is not, I think, your sole claim to distinction. Given good will, the prime motive power of all progress, and a desire to help our body politic, a man of your high principles and exalted sentiments should not be at a loss even here. I, for example, shall beg you to throw light upon much that puzzles my dragon mind. To-day I have done all the talking, but think not that I cannot listen too. Many of my friends and neighbours have helped me vastly with their practical knowledge of your species, and the rising generation is not backward of still more valuable ideas. However, you are free to go when you please; but I should think it courteous and considerate if you would undertake to stay a month with us.”

“That I will gladly do,” replied his guest. “There is, however, one privilege I would beg. My squire, George Pipkin, must be suffering the extremity of grief on my account, and he will, not unnaturally, fear for me a very different fate than this I now enjoy. Is it within your power, think you, to unite us? I may tell you that he will certainly seek me and push his way, sooner or later, to your outer walls. If, on reaching them, he might be admitted into this happy land, I should thank you heartily.”

“I will bring him myself,” promised the Lavender Dragon. “A man so faithful and of such devotion to his master is worthy of all respect.”

Sir Jasper sighed and reviewed his tremendous experience.

“What the world would think of me, I cannot guess,” he said.

“What the world thinks of us is of prodigious unimportance, my friend,” replied the saurian. “The only thing that really matters is what we think of ourselves. In nothing is reason so flouted as in our ridiculous self-estimates; but when we suffer her to help us read our own hearts and judge the real worth of our own abilities and ambitions, then we shall begin to know what moral progress may mean.”

VII

_GREAT NEWS FOR GEORGE PIPKIN_

Early on the morrow the Lavender Dragon set forth to seek George Pipkin and, after sleeping soundly in a most comfortable and cheerful chamber, the latest arrival at Dragonsville went among the people and saw and heard much that gave him pleasure.