d down to catch his, twist it over, and
riposte, he feinted, cleared the descending sword, and thrust at the
throat. A swift ducking crouch let the sword pass over the strong
man's head, and only a powerful French circular parry saved the life
of Sir Seymour Stukeley.

As the boy realized later, he fought Italian in principle, and used
the best of French parries, ripostes, and tricks, upon occasion--and
his own perfected combination of the two schools made him, according
to Captain Delorme, the best fencer in the King's army. So at least
the Captain said to the other second, as they amicably chatted while
their friends sought to slay each other before their hard,
indifferent-seeming eyes.

To the boy their talk conveyed little--as yet.

The duellists stepped back as the "phrase" ended, and then Sir Seymour
gave an "invitation," holding his sword-arm wide to the right of his
body. Sir Matthew lunged, his sword was caught, carried out to the
left, and held there as Sir Seymour's blade slid inward along it. Just
in time, Sir Matthew's inward pressure carried Sir Seymour's sword
clear to the right again. Sir Matthew disengaged over, and, as the
sudden release brought Sir Seymour's sword springing in, he thrust
under that gentleman's right arm and scratched his side.

As he recovered his sword he held it for a moment with the point
raised toward Sir Seymour's face. Instantly Sir Seymour's point
tinkled on his hilt, and Captain Delorme murmured "Finis" beneath his
breath.

Sir Stukeley Seymour's blade shot in, Sir Matthew's moved to parry,
and the point of the advancing sword flickered under his hand, turned
upward, and pierced his heart.

"Yes," said Captain Delorme, as the stricken man fell, "if he parries
outward the point goes under, if he anticipates a feint it comes
straight in, and if he parries a lunge-and-feint-under, he gets
feint-over before he can come up. I have never seen Stukeley miss when
once he rests on the hilt. _Exit_ de Warrenne--and Hell the worse for
it----" and the boy awoke.

He kissed the sword and fell asleep again.

One day, when receiving his morning fencing and boxing lessons of
Sergeant Havlan, he astonished that warrior (and made a bitter enemy
of him) by warning him against allowing his blade to rest on the
Sergeant's hilt, and by hitting him clean and fair whenever it was
allowed to happen. Also, by talking of "the Italian school of fence"
and of "invitations"--the which were wholl