d expected. "A
pity, a pity!" the latter said to himself. "To have lost, if he ever
was professor, the joy of life!"

"Are you ready?" Colonel John asked.

"At your service, sare," the Maitre d'Armes replied--but not with much
heartiness. The two advanced each a foot, they touched swords, then
saluted with that graceful and courteous engagement which to an
ignorant observer is one of the charms of the foil. As they did so, and
steel grated on steel, the eavesdroppers in the inner room ventured
softly from ambush--like rats issuing forth; soon they were all
standing behind the Colonel, the sawdust, and the fencers' stamping
feet as they lunged or gave back, covering the sound of their
movements.

They were on the broad grin when they came out. But it took them less
than a minute to discover that the entertainment was not likely to be
so extravagantly funny as they had hoped. The Colonel was not, strictly
speaking, a tyro; moreover, he had, as he said, a long reach. He was no
match indeed for Lemoine, who touched him twice in the first bout and
might have touched him thrice had he put forth his strength. But he did
nothing absurd. When he dropped his point, therefore, at the end of the
rally, and, turning to take breath came face to face with the gallery
of onlookers, the best-natured of these felt rather foolish. But
Colonel John seemed to find nothing surprising in their presence. He
saluted them courteously with his weapon. "I am afraid I cannot show
you much sport, gentlemen," he said.

One or two muttered something--a good day, or the like. The rest
grinned unmeaningly. Payton said nothing, but, folding his arms with a
superior air, leant, frowning haughtily, against the wall.

"_Parbleu_," said Lemoine, as they rested. "It is a pity. The wrist is
excellent, sare. But the pointing finger is not--is not!"

"I do my best," the Colonel answered, with cheerful resignation. "Shall
we engage again?"

"At your pleasure."

The Frenchman's eye no longer twinkled; his gallantry was on its
mettle. He was grave and severe, fixing his gaze on the Colonel's
attack, and remaining blind to the nods and shrugs and smiles of
amusement of his patrons in the background. Again he touched the
Colonel, and, alas! again; with an ease which, good-natured as he was,
he could not mask.

Colonel John, a little breathed, and perhaps a little chagrined also,
dropped his point. Some one coughed, and another tittered.

"I think he wil