BERTRAND DES AMIS

Maitre en fait d'Armes des Academies du Roi

Andre-Louis stood considering. He could claim, he thought, to possess
the qualifications demanded. He was certainly young and he believed of
tolerable address, whilst the fencing-lessons he had received in Nantes
had given him at least an elementary knowledge of swordsmanship. The
notice looked as if it had been pinned there some days ago, suggesting
that applicants for the post were not very numerous. In that case
perhaps M. Bertrand des Amis would not be too exigent. And anyway,
Andre-Louis had not eaten for four-and-twenty hours, and whilst the
employment here offered--the precise nature of which he was yet to
ascertain--did not appear to be such as Andre-Louis would deliberately
have chosen, he was in no case now to be fastidious.

Then, too, he liked the name of Bertrand des Amis. It felicitously
combined suggestions of chivalry and friendliness. Also the man's
profession being of a kind that is flavoured with romance it was
possible that M. Bertrand des Amis would not ask too many questions.

In the end he climbed to the second floor. On the landing he paused
outside a door, on which was written "Academy of M. Bertrand des
Amis." He pushed this open, and found himself in a sparsely furnished,
untenanted antechamber. From a room beyond, the door of which was
closed, came the stamping of feet, the click and slither of steel upon
steel, and dominating these sounds a vibrant sonorous voice speaking a
language that was certainly French; but such French as is never heard
outside a fencing-school.

"Coulez! Mais, coulez donc!.... So! Now the flanconnade--en carte.... And
here is the riposte.... Let us begin again. Come! The ward of fierce....
Make the coupe, and then the quinte par dessus les armes.... O, mais
allongez! Allongez! Allez au fond!" the voice cried in expostulation.
"Come, that was better." The blades ceased.

"Remember: the hand in pronation, the elbow not too far out. That will
do for to-day. On Wednesday we shall see you tirer au mur. It is more
deliberate. Speed will follow when the mechanism of the movements is
more assured."

Another voice murmured in answer. The steps moved aside. The lesson was
at an end. Andre-Louis tapped on the door.

It was opened by a tall, slender, gracefully proportioned man of perhaps
forty. Black silk breeches and stockings ending in light shoes clothed
him from the waist down. Above he w