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The King's Esquires: The Jewel of France, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 2. A Fencing Lesson |
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_ CHAPTER TWO. A FENCING LESSON "Pert--impudent--all over the young courtier," said the doctor thoughtfully; "but I like the boy for his father's sake. Yes, all that was good and true. Now then, what will he say to me this time? I moved him a little yesterday, and I think that his love of adventure will make him think well of my proposals." He stood thoughtful for a few moments, bent of form and dreamy of eye. Then with a sudden movement he drew himself up quick and alert, and looking ten years younger, as he swung back his long gown from his shoulders, grasped his rapier by the sheath, brought round his right hand to the hilt, and drew forth a glistening blade, to hold it at arm's length, quivering in the rays of light which came athwart the room from the high-up narrow window. Then falling into position, his whole body seemed to glide forward following the blade, as he made a thrust in the most effortless way, the point of his weapon passing into the hole made a few minutes earlier by the young esquire; and he was in the act of drawing it forth to thrust again, when the arras to his right was plucked aside and the boy stood before him. "What, you trying!" he cried. "Yes.--But the King?" "Asleep, and he will not awaken for an hour yet. No one can hear us," continued the lad eagerly. "Do give me a fencing lesson, Master Leoni. I remember how Saint Simon once said that you were the finest swordsman about the Court." "Did he say that?" said the doctor quietly. "To be sure he did," cried the lad, drawing his sword and putting himself on guard.--"Come on." "Better not now," said the doctor. "We may awaken the King." "Don't I tell you he's fast asleep?" "Yes; but the guard may hear." "Not they; and what matter if they did? Now then; shall I attack you?" "Yes," said the doctor quietly. "Would you like a place marked-out upon my chest?" "There, now you are mocking at me." "Yes: I was." "Well, you shall attack. But had I better get some buttoned swords? I shouldn't like to hurt you, sir." "I'll take care you do not," said the doctor quietly; "and there will be no need, for I will not hurt you." The lad coloured slightly as the thought flashed through him that he should like to humble the other's confidence and pride. The next moment he was looking on, half astonished, as his adversary slipped off his long robe-like gown and stood before him in his tight doublet and hose, upright, keen, and active as a man of half his years, ready to fall into position the next moment and challenge him to come on. The lad required no second invitation, for, calling up all he knew of fencing, he crossed swords and attacked vigorously, with the sensation the next moment that he had received a sharp jerk of the wrist as his rapier described a curve in the air and the doctor leaped up, making a snatch with his left hand, and catching it by the middle of the blade as it fell, to hold it to its owner with a smile. "Bad," he said. "Don't let me do that again." "You can't," cried the lad defiantly, as, tingling with annoyance, he attacked once more, to feel his adversary's blade seem as if endowed with snake-like vitality, and twine round his own, which then twitched and fell with a sharp jingle upon the oaken boards. "Oh," cried the lad impatiently, "I can't fence a bit! But tell me, doctor; is there any--no, absurd--stuff! I don't believe in magic. I'd give anything, though, if you would teach me how to do that." "You must learn to fence first, my boy, and work hard. I did not learn to do that in one lesson. Now attack again, and keep a good grip of your hilt. There, come on." "No, not now, sir," said the boy huskily. "This has made me hot and angry, and one ought to be cool when handling pointed weapons. I shouldn't like to hurt you, sir." "Neither should I, my lad," said the doctor calmly; "but you need not fear doing that. Come on, I tell you. There, I'm not speaking boastingly, Denis, my lad. I am no master of fence, but I can do precisely what I please with your weapon, disarm you at every encounter, or turn your point whichever way I choose. There: you see." For nettled by his words, and in a futile effort to prove that they were untrue, the lad attacked sharply once again, made about a dozen passes, to find himself perfectly helpless in his adversary's hands, and at last stopped short, lowered his point to the floor, and stood with both hands resting on the hilt. "You are right, sir," he said. "It's horrible. I thought I could; but I can't fence a bit." At that moment there was a sharp click of the outer door, and the doctor hurriedly began to sheathe his rapier, but not quickly enough for his action to be unseen. The arras was thrown aside, and a tall handsome young cavalier strode into the ante-chamber and stopped short in astonishment. "Words and wonder!" he cried. "A duel? or young Denis defending his Majesty from an attempted assassination on the part of Master Leoni with a sword instead of physic?" "Does it ever occur to you, Saint Simon, that your tongue runs at times somewhat too fast?" said the doctor coldly. "Oh yes, often," was the laughing reply; "but it's a habit it has. What have I interrupted, though?" "Master Leoni was giving me a fencing lesson, Saint Simon," cried the lad eagerly. "Then you are the luckiest fellow at Court," cried the new arrival. "Why was I not here? There, pray go on, and let me stand by and learn." _ |
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