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.
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