It was this man who now laid hands on the Viscount, and, in a voice that sounded like amiable thunder, made the inquiry, "_Que faites-vous ?_" "I am going to kill this animal--this hideous horrible animal," said Monsieur the Viscount, struggling vainly under the grasp of the tutors finger and thumb.
"It is only a toad," said Monsieur the Preceptor, in his laconic tones.
"_Only_ a toad, do you say, Monsieur ?" said the Viscount.

"That is enough, I think.

It will bite--it will spit--it will poison: it is like that dragon you tell me of, that devastated Rhodes--I am the good knight that shall kill it." Monsieur the Preceptor laughed heartily.

"You are misled by a vulgar error.

Toads do not bite--they have no teeth; neither do they spit poison." "You are wrong, Monsieur," said the Viscount; "I have seen their teeth myself.