The Kings Esquires | Page 4

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