The Minor Canon had not heard of the strange event, which was known to the whole town except himself and the three old women, and when he was informed of it, and was told that the Griffin had asked to see him, he was greatly amazed, and frightened.

“Me!” he exclaimed.  “He has never heard of me!  What should he want with me?”

“Oh! you must go instantly!” cried the two men.  “He is very angry now because he has been kept waiting so long; and nobody knows what may happen if you don’t hurry to him.”

The poor Minor Canon would rather have had his hand cut off than go out to meet an angry griffin; but he felt that it was his duty to go, for it would be a woful thing if injury should come to the people of the town because he was not brave enough to obey the summons of the Griffin.  So, pale and frightened, he started off.

“Well,” said the Griffin, as soon as the young man came near, “I am glad to see that there is some one who has the courage to come to me.”

The Minor Canon did not feel very courageous, but he bowed his head.

“Is this the town,” said the Griffin, “where there is a church with a likeness of myself over one of the doors?”

The Minor Canon looked at the frightful creature before him and saw that it was, without doubt, exactly like the stone image on the church.  “Yes,” he said, “you are right.”

“Well, then,” said the Griffin, “will you take me to it?  I wish very much to see it.”

The Minor Canon instantly thought that if the Griffin entered the town without the people knowing what he came for, some of them would probably be frightened to death, and so he sought to gain time to prepare their minds.

“It is growing dark, now,” he said, very much afraid, as he spoke, that his words might enrage the Griffin, “and objects on the front of the church can not be seen clearly.  It will be better to wait until morning, if you wish to get a good view of the stone image of yourself.”

“That will suit me very well,” said the Griffin.  “I see you are a man of good sense.  I am tired, and I will take a nap here on this soft grass, while I cool my tail in the little stream that runs near me.  The end of my tail gets red-hot when I am angry or excited, and it is quite warm now.  So you may go, but be sure and come early to-morrow morning, and show me the way to the church.”

The Minor Canon was glad enough to take his leave, and hurried into the town.  In front of the church he found a great many people assembled to hear his report of his interview with the Griffin.  When they found that he had not come to spread ruin and devastation, but simply to see his stony likeness on the church, they showed neither relief nor gratification, but began to upbraid the Minor Canon for consenting to conduct the creature into the town.

“What could I do?” cried the young man.  “If I should not bring him he would come himself and, perhaps, end by setting fire to the town with his red-hot tail.”