As they were speaking, a dim mass on the skyline began to take shape.
'Behold!' said the damsel. 'My father's castle.' And presently they
were riding across the drawbridge and through the great gate, which
shut behind them with a clang.
As they dismounted a man came out through a door at the farther end of
the courtyard.
'Father,' said Yvonne, 'this is the gallant knight Sir Agravaine, who
has come to--' it seemed to Agravaine that she hesitated for a moment.
'To tackle our dragon?' said the father. 'Excellent. Come right in.'
Earl Dorm of the Hills, was a small, elderly man, with what Agravaine
considered a distinctly furtive air about him. His eyes were too close
together, and he was over-lavish with a weak, cunning smile Even
Agravaine, who was in the mood to like the whole family, if possible,
for Yvonne's sake, could not help feeling that appearances were against
this particular exhibit. He might have a heart of gold beneath the
outward aspect of a confidence-trick expert whose hobby was dog-stealing,
but there was no doubt that his exterior did not inspire a genial glow
of confidence.
'Very good of you to come,' said the earl.
'It's a pleasure,' said Agravaine. 'I have been hearing all about the
dragon.'
'A great scourge,' agreed his host. 'We must have a long talk about it
after dinner.
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