de the acquaintance--an
acquaintance held by few men in those days--of those marvellous guards
of Marozzo's devising; Falcone showed me the difference between the
mandritto and the roverso, the false edge and the true, the stramazone
and the tondo; and he left me spellbound by that marvellous guard
appropriately called by Marozzo the iron girdle--a low guard on the
level of the waist, which on the very parry gives an opening for the
point, so that in one movement you may ward and strike.

At last, when I questioned him, he admitted that during their
wanderings, my father, with that recklessness that alternated curiously
with his caution, had ventured into the city of Bologna notwithstanding
that it was a Papal fief, for the sole purpose of studying with Marozzo
that Falcone himself had daily accompanied him, witnessed the lessons,
and afterwards practised with my father, so that he had come to learn
most of the secrets that Marozzo taught.

One day, at last, very timidly, like one who, whilst overconscious of
his utter unworthiness, ventures to crave a boon which he knows himself
without the right to expect, I asked Falcone would he show me something
of Marozzo's art with real weapons.

I had feared a rebuff. I had thought that even old Falcone might laugh
at one predestined to the study of theology, desiring to enter into the
mysteries of sword-craft. But my fears were far indeed from having a
foundation. There was no laughter in the equerry's grey eyes, whilst
the smile upon his lips was a smile of gladness, of eagerness, almost of
thankfulness to see me so set.

And so it came to pass that daily thereafter did we practise for an hour
or so in the armoury with sword and buckler, and with every lesson
my proficiency with the iron grew in a manner that Falcone termed
prodigious, swearing that I was born to the sword, that the knack of it
was in the very blood of me.

It may be that affection for me caused him to overrate the progress that
I made and the aptitude I showed; it may even be that what he said was
no more than the good-natured flattery of one who loved me and would
have me take pleasure in myself. And yet when I look back at the lad I
was, I incline to think that he spoke no more than sober truth.

I have alluded to the curious, almost inexplicable delight it afforded
me to feel in my hands the balance of a pike for the first time. Fain
would I tell you something of all that I felt when first my fingers