I had paid great attention to the instructions given me, as I wished to make rapid progress; while Bertrand being an able master, and I his sole scholar, he was enabled to devote all his attention to me.
Félicién, also, after the first few passes, perceived my superiority over him.
I allowed him to make five or six thrusts at me, simply contenting myself with parrying them.
Once he grazed the wristband of my shirt, but he did not dare say “Touched!”
I saw the blood mount to his face.
“My dear Félicién,” said I, “I have been three hours under arms, and am fatigued. If you will allow me, I should like to put an end to our combat. The ladies, I am sure, will accept my excuse.”
“They may, but I will not,” said he. “I know full well, by the strength of your parries, that your arm is not fatigued. Say that you believe yourself to be a better fencer than I am, and that you are generous enough not to pursue your advantage.”
“Then you wish to continue?”
“Certainly. If you are the better man, I will take the lesson, as an obedient scholar should.”
“You hear the promise that M. Félicién makes,” said I, turning to M. Duplay; “and you are witness that I continue solely on that agreement?”