The Kings Esquires | Page 3

King's enemies, Master Denis, if you can't do better
work than that."
"What!" cried the boy, flushing. "You've been watching?"
"Of course, I watch everything," said the other, smiling. "That's the
way to learn. You must watch, too, my boy--good fencing masters--and
learn how to parry and thrust. It's of no use to carry a fine blade like
that if you don't master its use. Some day you may have to draw it to
defend the King, and aim its point perhaps at an assassin's heart; and

that will be a harder target to hit than that motionless mark. You seem
to have drawn upon the King's furniture to the great damage of the
carving. Denis, my lad, you ought to be able to handle a sword to better
purpose than that. Why, even I, old man as I am, who have not held a
blade in my hand this many a year, could make a better show."
"At binding up wounds perhaps," said the boy scornfully.
"Ay, and making of them too.--His Majesty is not in his chamber, I
suppose?"
"Yes, he is," said the lad shortly; "asleep."
"Soundly, then, or the noise you made must have aroused him. Go and
see if he is yet awake. I want to see him."
The boy frowned, and gave a tug at his weapon, which refused to leave
the wood.
"Gently, my lad," said the doctor. "That is a very beautiful weapon, too
good to spoil, and if you use it like that you will snap off the point, or
drag the blade from the hilt."
"But it is in so fast," cried the lad impatiently, and he pulled with all his
might, his anger gathering at being dictated to and taught.
"Let me," said the doctor, raising one hand; and the lad resented the
offer for the moment, but on second thoughts gave way.
"Perhaps you will find it as hard as I do," he said, with a malicious
smile.
"Perhaps I shall," said his elder; "but I should like to try. Sometimes,
my boy, the tactus eruditus will succeed when main force fails."
"I wish you wouldn't talk Latin," said the boy impatiently, and he
snatched his hand from the sword-hilt, leaving it vibrating and swaying
up and down where it stuck in the wood.

"Worse and worse," said the doctor quickly, as he caught it by the
guard. "Why, Denis, you don't deserve to possess a blade like that.
There," he continued, as, apparently without an effort, he drew the
rapier from its imprisonment and handed it back to the owner. "There;
sheathe your blade, and if his Majesty is awake, tell him that I beg an
audience."
"And if he is asleep?" said the lad.
"Let him rest," replied the other, with a smile. "Let sleeping--kings lie.
They are always better tempered, my lad, when they have rested well.
Take that as being the truth from an old philosopher, Denis, my boy,
and act accordingly. You and I don't want to lose our heads through
offending the master we serve."
"I don't," cried the boy sharply.
"Nor I," said the doctor, with a smile that was more unpleasant than
ever. "There, go softly."
"Yea, I'll go," said the lad; "but I am sure he's asleep."
"If he is, make haste back and while I wait till his Majesty has ended
his afternoon nap, suppose I give you one of my prescriptions on the
proper way to use a sword."
"But will you?" cried the lad eagerly, his whole manner changing.
"To be sure I will. There was a time when I used to fence, and had
sometimes to wound or take life to save my own. But of late years my
work has been to heal."
The lad nodded sharply, rested his left hand upon the hilt of his now
sheathed sword, drew aside the arras to the right of the fireplace, and
passed through the door that faced him, one which closed behind him
with a soft click.
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