“Quieter! Do you call this quiet? I could not read a word if I heard the clashing of swords.”
“They are only foils; and I have got used to the sound—boxing is quieter; but they are not well matched, I believe, as Mr. Biedermann is only a beginner.”
“Why, Theodor, is it possible you are learning to box like an Englishman? I should like of all things to know what it is like. Pray do box a little for me.”
“No, thank you; I do not appear to advantage. In fencing we are well-matched,” he said, playing with the foil as he looked towards Hamilton for confirmation; “but you must not forget that you have promised to come to my room some day and try how you can manage a sabre.”
“Your horse is saddled, sir,” cried Hans, in a loud voice, at the door.
“Well, come in,” cried Hamilton, “and put the chairs and tables in their places; and, next time, when you see I have visitors, say nothing about the horse.”
“Beg pardon, sir, I thought only our young ladies were in the room.”
“Oh, promise to ride up and down the street to show your horse to us,” cried Madame Berger, “I am so fond of seeing horses. Come, Crescenz, let us look out of the window—and you may come too,” she added graciously to Theodor as she left the room.
When Hamilton was about to mount, he looked up towards the house, but saw so many heads looking out of so many windows that he desired Hans to parade the horse for him. It was in vain Madame Berger opened the window and called out to him—he stood with his arms folded, admiring the animal himself while it was being put through all its paces, and then quietly mounting, rode very slowly from the door.
“Why, Theodor you told me he was a famous rider,” cried Madame Berger, with evident disappointment.