At last, with a quick turn of the wrist, he sent Rupert’s foil flying across the room.  Rupert gave an exclamation of disgust, followed by a merry laugh.

“You always have me so, Monsieur Dessin.  Do what I will, sooner or later comes that twist, which I cannot stop.”

“You must learn how, sir.  Your sword is so; as you lunge I guard, and run my foil along yours, so as to get power near my hilt.  Now if I press, your sword must go; but you must not let me press; you must disengage quickly.  Thus, you see?

“Now let us try again.  We will practise nothing else today—­or tomorrow—­or till you are perfect.  It is your one weak point.  Then you must practise to disarm your opponent, till you are perfect in that also.  Then, as far as I can teach you, you will be a master of fencing.  You know all my coups, and all those of monsieur le colonel.  These face guards, too, have worked wonders, in enabling you to play with quickness and freedom.  We are both fine blades.

“I tell you, young sir, you need not put up with an insult in any public place in Europe.  I tell you so, who ought to know.”

In the year 1702 fencing was far from having attained that perfection which it reached later.  Masks had not yet been invented, and in consequence play was necessarily stiff and slow, as the danger of the loss of sight, or even of death, from a chance thrust was very great.  When Rupert first began his lessons, he was so rash and hasty that his grandfather greatly feared an accident, and it struck him that by having visors affixed to a couple of light steel caps, not only would all possibility of an accident be obviated upon the part of either himself or his pupil, but the latter would attain a freedom and confidence of style which could otherwise be only gained from a long practice in actual war.  The result had more than equalled his expectations; and Monsieur Dessin had, when he assumed the post of instructor, been delighted with the invention, and astonished at the freedom and boldness of the lad’s play.  It was, then, thanks to these masks, as well as to his teachers’ skill and his own aptitude, that Rupert had obtained a certainty, a rapidity, and a freedom of style absolutely impossible in the case of a person, whatever his age, who had been accustomed to fence with the face unguarded, and with the caution and stiffness necessary to prevent the occurrence of terrible accident.

For another half hour the lesson went on.  Then, just as the final salute was given, the door opened at the end of the room, and a lady entered, in the stiff dress with large hoops then in fashion.  Colonel Holliday advanced with a courtly air, and offered her his hand.  The French gentleman, with an air to the full as courtly as that of the colonel, brought forward a chair for her; and when she had seated herself, Rupert advanced to kiss her hand.

“No, Rupert, you are too hot.  There, leave us; I wish to speak to Colonel Holliday and monsieur.”