“My dear sare,” he cried, “you give me ze very great astonishment to-night. You are ze—ze—what you call it?—ze Jim Dandy! Oui! You nevare learn so much about ze foil in ze American college. Eet is impossible!”
“Well,” smiled Merry, “I don’t think I told you I obtained all my knowledge and skill at college.”
“You mention ze school first. You begin young. Zat ees good! Zat is splendid! Zat ees ze way to make ze feenish fencer, ze same as ze feenish musician or ze feenish beelyarde player. But ze school, ze college, both together zey never gif you all you know. You have ze command, ze skill, ze technique! Eef you choose, sare, you make ze master fencer.”
“Thank you, professor,” said Merry. “I fear you are flattering me.”
“O-oo, no, no! I spik ze truth! You have traveled?”
“Yes.”
“You have visited France?”
“Yes.”
“I knew eet! In France you take ze fencing lesson from some famous master of ze art. You have ze French method. I do not say you have eet yet to completeness. I belief I could advance you to ze very great extent. But before you had finished ze engagement I knew you had received instruction from ze French master.”
“But not in France.”