'
Agravaine felt that the dragon might be counted upon to do that. He
said as much.
'Ah, yes, the dragon,' said Earl Dorm, 'I was forgetting the dragon. I
want to have a long talk with you about that dragon. Not now. Later
on.'
His eye caught Agravaine's, and he smiled that weak, cunning smile of
his. And for the first time the knight was conscious of a curious
feeling that all was not square and aboveboard in this castle. A
conviction began to steal over him that in some way he was being played
with, that some game was afoot which he did not understand, that--in a
word--there was dirty work at the cross-roads.
There was a touch of mystery in the atmosphere which made him vaguely
uneasy. When a fiery dragon is ravaging the countryside to such an
extent that the S.O.S. call has been sent out to the Round Table, a
knight has a right to expect the monster to be the main theme of
conversation. The tendency on his host's part was apparently to avoid
touching on the subject at all. He was vague and elusive; and the one
topic on which an honest man is not vague and elusive is that of fiery
dragons. It was not right. It was as if one should phone for the police
and engage them, on arrival, in a discussion on the day's football
results.
A wave of distrust swept over Agravaine. He had heard stories of robber
chiefs who lured strangers into their strongholds and then held them
prisoners while the public nervously dodged their anxious friends who
had formed subscription lists to make up the ransom.
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