The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars. Henty George Alfred
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young men of the court and army. It was a large and lofty room, and some six assistants were in the act of giving instructions to beginners, or of fencing with more advanced students, when the trio entered. Maitre Dalboy himself came up to greet them, for both Rupert's friends had been his pupils.
"You are strangers," he said reproachfully. "How are your muscles to keep in good order, and your eye true, if you do not practise? It is heart rending! I take every pains to turn out accomplished swordsmen; and no sooner have my pupils learned something of the business, than they begin to forget it."
"We shall begin to put your teaching into effect before long, Maitre Dalboy," Sir John Loveday said, with a smile, "for we are going over to join the army in Holland in a few weeks, and we shall then have an opportunity of trying the utility of the parries you have taught us."
"It is too bad," the Frenchman said, shrugging his shoulders, "that my pupils should use the science I have taught them against my countrymen; but what would you have? It is the fortune of war. Is this young gentleman a new pupil that you have brought me?"
"No, indeed," Lord Fairholm said; "this is Master Rupert Holliday, a cornet in the 5th regiment of dragoons, who is also about to start for Holland."
"I have had the advantage of learning from a countryman of yours, Monsieur Dalboy," Rupert said, "a Monsieur Dessin, who is good enough to teach the noble art in the town of Derby."
"Dessin! Dessin!" Maitre Dalboy said, thoughtfully "I do not remember the name among our maitres d'escrime."
"The Earl of Marlborough himself vouches for the skill of Master Holliday with the sword. His grandfather, Colonel Holliday, was, I believe, noted as one of the finest blades at the court of Saint Germains."
"I have heard of him," Monsieur Dalboy said, with interest. "Let me think; he wounded the Marquis de Beauchamp, who was considered one of the best swordsmen in France. Yes, yes, his fame as a swordsman is still remembered. And he is alive yet?"
"Alive and active," Rupert said; "and although, as he says himself, he has lost some of his quickness of reposte, there are, Monsieur Dessin says, few fencers who could even now treat him lightly."
"And you have had the benefit of his instruction as well as that of my countryman?" Monsieur Dalboy asked.
"Yes," Rupert said, "my grandfather, although he cares not at his age for prolonged exercise, has yet made a point of giving me for a few minutes each day the benefit of his skill."
"I should like to have a bout with you, Master Holliday," Monsieur Dalboy said; "will you take a foil? I am curious to see what the united teaching of my countryman and that noted swordsman Colonel Holliday may have done. To me, as a master, it is interesting to discover what is possible with good teachers, when the science is begun young. What may your age be, Master Holliday?"
"I am four months short of sixteen," Rupert said, "and I shall be very proud of the honour of crossing swords with so famed a master as yourself, if you think me worthy of so great a privilege."
There was quite a sensation in the fencing school, round which were gathered some forty or fifty of the young men of the day, when Maitre Dalboy called for his plastron and foil, for it was seldom indeed, and then only with swordsmen of altogether exceptional strength, that Monsieur Dalboy condescended to fence, contenting himself ordinarily with walking about the school and giving a hint now and then to those fencing with his assistants, not, perhaps, more than once a week taking a foil in his hand to illustrate some thrust or guard which he was inculcating. At this call, therefore, there was a general silence; and everyone turned to see who was the fencer whom the great master thus signally deigned to honour.
Great was the astonishment when, as Monsieur Dalboy divested himself of his coat and vest, the lad who had entered with Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday was seen similarly to prepare for the contest.
"Who is he? What singular freak is this of the maitre to take up a foil with a boy!" was the question which ran round the room.
Several of those present had met Rupert Holliday, and could give his name; but none could account for the freak on the part of the master.
Fortunately Rupert was unacquainted with the fact that what seemed to him a natural occurrence was an extraordinary event in the eyes of all assembled, and he therefore experienced no feeling of nervousness whatever. He knew that Colonel Holliday was a master of the sword, and his grandfather had told him that Monsieur Dessin was an altogether exceptional swordsman. As he knew himself to be fully a match for the latter, he felt sure that, however perfect a master Monsieur Dalboy might be, he need not fear discrediting his master, even if his present opponent should prove more than his match.
There was a dead silence of curiosity at the singularity of the affair, as Rupert Holliday took his post face to face with the master; but a murmur of surprise and admiration ran round the room at the grace and perfection of accuracy with which Rupert went through the various parades which were then customary before the combatants crossed swords.
Rupert felt as calm and as steady as when fencing at home, and determined to use all his caution as well as all his skill; for not only did he feel that his own strength was upon trial, but that the honour of the teachers who had taken such pains with him was concerned in the result. The swords had scarcely crossed when an expression of surprise passed across Maitre Dalboy's face. The first few passes showed him that in this lad he had found an opponent of no ordinary character, and that all his skill would be needed to obtain a victory over him.
For the first few minutes each fought cautiously, feeling each other's strength rather than attempting to attack seriously. Then the master dropped his point.
"Ma foi! Young sir, you have done monsieur le colonel and my compatriot justice. I offer you my congratulations."
"They are premature, sir," Rupert said, smiling; "you have not as yet begun."
The silence in the school was even more profound when the swords again crossed than it had been when the bout began, for wonder had now taken the place of amused curiosity. The struggle now commenced in earnest. Several times at first Rupert narrowly escaped being touched, for the master's play was new to him. The thrusts and feints, the various attacks, were all familiar; but whereas Colonel Holliday had fought simply with his arm and his head, standing immovably in one place, and Monsieur Dessin had, although quick to advance and fall back, fought comparatively on the defensive, while he himself had been the assailant from his superior activity, Monsieur Dalboy was as quick and as active as himself, and the rapidity of the attacks, the quick bounds, the swift rushes, at first almost bewildered him; but gradually, as he grew accustomed to the play, he steadied himself, and eluded the master's attacks with an activity as great as his own.
In vain Monsieur Dalboy employed every feint, every combination in his repertoire. Rupert was always prepared, for from one or other of his teachers he had learnt the defence to be employed against each; and at last, as the master, exhausted with his exertions, flagged a little, Rupert in turn took the offensive. Now Monsieur Dalboy's skill stood him in equal stead to defend himself against Rupert's rapid attacks and lightning-like passes and thrusts; and although the combat had lasted without a second's interruption for nearly a quarter of an hour, neither combatant had touched the other.
At last Rupert saw by his opponent's eye that a new and special combination was about to be put into action against him, and he instantly steadied himself to resist it. It came with the rapidity of thought, but Rupert recognized it by the first pass as the very last combination which Monsieur Dessin had taught him, assuring him at the time that he would find it irresistible, for that there were not three men in Europe acquainted with it. He met the attack then with the defence which Monsieur Dessin had showed him to be the sure escape, ending with a wrench which nearly tore the sword from the hand of his opponent.
Monsieur Dalboy sprang back on guard, with a look of profound astonishment; and then throwing down his foil, he threw himself, in the impetuous manner of his countrymen, on Rupert's neck, and embraced him.
"Mon dieu! mon dieu!" he exclaimed, "You are incroyable, you are a miracle.
"Gentlemen," he said, turning to those present, when the burst of enthusiastic applause which greeted the conclusion of this extraordinary contest subsided, "you