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Scott, John Reed, 1869-

"The Colonel of the Red Huzzars"

From that time on, I had practiced
assiduously, and spending all my leaves in Europe and fencing in all
the best schools of the Continent.
Our blades had little more than crossed when I knew that it would take
all my skill to hold my own, even for a short time. Moore was, far and
away, the best fencer I had ever encountered; and I thought I had faced
about all the famous ones of first force. His agility was amazing; his
wrist like steel; his anticipation masterly. For every time I touched
him, he touched me twice; though none, on either side, would have been
more than a scratch. Then, in the midst of a fierce rally, I forced a
pretty opening and I thrust. No guard seemed possible--it was a sure
_coeur_. The next instant, there came a wrench, that almost tore off
my fingers, and my foil flew across the room. Moore had led me into
the final position of Lotzen's attack, and had disarmed me exactly as
he had the Duke.
I held out my left hand to him--the right still tingled.
"Beautiful!" I said. "It's a marvellous defence and marvellously done."
Moore bowed very low over my hand. "It is a pleasure to serve under
Your Highness," he said.
"Aye! that it is," said Bernheim.


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