“You see, Allie,” he was saying, “his name was Saint George, and he was a knight.  And so there was a great dragon with a fiery crest.  And so he went at him, and killed him; and he married the princess, and they lived happy ever after.  I’d have killed him, too, if I’d been there!”

“Could you kill a dragon?” I asked, rather timidly.

“Course I could!” replied the young champion.  “I’d have a splendid white horse,—­no, a black one,—­and a sword like Jack the Giant Killer’s, and—­and—­oh, and an invisible ring!  I’d use him up pretty quick.  Then I’d cut off his head and give it to the princess, and we’d have a feast of jelly-cake, and cream candy, and then I would marry her!”

I could only gasp admiringly at this splendid vision.

“But mamma said,” went on Georgie, more thoughtfully, “that there are dragons now; and she said she would like me to be a Saint George.  She’s going to tell some more to-night, but there’s getting angry, that’s a dragon, and wanting to be head of everything, that’s another, and she and me are going to fight ’em.  We said so.”

“But how?” I asked, with wide open eyes.  “I don’t see any dragon when I’m angry!”

“Oh, you’re a girl,” said Georgie, consolingly; and we ran on contentedly, wading across the shallow pools of salt water, clambering over the rocks, and now and then stopping to pick up a bright pebble or shell.  The whole scene comes vividly before me as I think of it now:—­the gray and brown cliffs, with their sharp crags and narrow clefts half choked up by the fine, sifting sand, the wet “snappers” clinging to the rocks along the water’s edge; the sea itself clear and blue in the bright afternoon, and the dancing lights where the sunbeams struck its rippling surface.  A light wind blew across the bay.  It stirred in Georgie’s curls, and swept about us both as if playing with us.  We grew happier and happier, and when at last we saw “Captain Kidd’s Cave” just before us, we were in the wildest spirits, and almost sorry that our walk was ended.

There was plenty to be seen in the cave, however, beside the excitement of searching for the pirate’s treasures, which the country people said were buried there.  The high rocks met, forming a wide, arched cavern with a little crevice in the roof, through which we could just see the clear sky.  The firm floor was full of smaller stones, which we used for seats, and one high crag almost hid the entrance.  It was delicious to creep through the low door-way, and to sit in the cool twilight that reigned there, listening to the song of the winds and waters outside, or to clamber up and down the steep sides of the cave, playing that we were cast-aways on a desert island.  We played, also, that I was a captive princess, and Georgie killed a score of dragons in my defense.  We were married, too, with the little knight’s sword stuck in the sand for the clergyman.  Quite tired out, at last, we went into the cave and sat on the sand-strewn floor, telling stories and talking of dragons and fairies, until a drop of rain suddenly fell through the cleft in the roof.  Georgie sprang up.