“Yes,” Rupert said; “but my grandfather always said that Monsieur Dessin was only an assumed name, and that he was undoubtedly of noble blood.”

“Your grandfather was right,” the master said.  “Yes, you have had wonderful masters; but unless I had seen it, I should not have believed that even the best masters in the world could have turned out such a swordsman as you at your age.”

By this time the various couples had begun fencing again, and the room resounded with the talk of the numerous lookers on, who were all discoursing on what appeared to them, as to Monsieur Dalboy, the almost miraculous occurrence of a lad under sixteen holding his own against a man who had the reputation of being the finest maitre in Europe.  Lord Fairholm, Sir John Loveday, and other gentlemen, now came round.

“I was rather thinking,” Sir John said, with a laugh, “of taking you under my protection, Master Holliday, and fighting your battles for you, as an old boy does for a young one at school; but it must even be the other way.  And by my faith, if any German Ritter or French swordsman should challenge the British dragoons to a trial of the sword, we shall put you forth as our David.”

“I trust that that may not be,” Rupert said; “for though in battle I hope that I shall not be found wanting, yet I trust that I shall have nought to do in private quarrels, but be looked upon as one of a peaceful disposition.”

“Very peaceful, doubtless!” laughed Lord Fairholm.  “Tell me, Master Rupert, honestly now, didst ever use in earnest that sword that you have just shown that you know so well how to wield?”

Rupert flushed up crimson.

“Yes,” he said, with a shame-faced look, “I have twice used my sword in self defence.”

“Ha, ha!  Our peaceful friend!” laughed Lord Fairholm.  “And tell me, didst put an end to both unfortunates?”

Rupert coloured still more deeply.

“I had the misfortune to slay one, my lord; but there are good hopes that the other will recover.”

A general shout of laughter greeted the announcement, which together with Rupert’s evident shame-faced look, was altogether too much for their gravity.

Just at this moment a diversion was caused by a young man dressed in the extreme of fashion who entered the school.  He had a dissipated and jaded air.

“Fulke, where hast been?” one of the group standing round Rupert asked.  “We have missed you these two weeks.  Someone said you had been roughly mauled, and had even lost some teeth.  Is it so?”

“It is,” the newcomer said, with an angry scowl.  “Any beauty I once may have had is gone forever.  I have lost three of my upper teeth, and two of my lower, and I am learning now to speak with my lips shut, so as to hide the gap.”

“But how came it about?”

“I was walking down a side street off the Strand, when four men sprang out and held my hands to my side, another snatched my watch and purse, and as I gave a cry for the watch, he smote me with the pommel of his rapier in my mouth, then throwing me on the ground the villains took to their heels together.”