“You are right, sir,” he said. “It’s horrible. I thought I could; but I can’t fence a bit.”
At that moment there was a sharp click of the outer door, and the doctor hurriedly began to sheathe his rapier, but not quickly enough for his action to be unseen. The arras was thrown aside, and a tall handsome young cavalier strode into the ante-chamber and stopped short in astonishment.
“Words and wonder!” he cried. “A duel? or young Denis defending his Majesty from an attempted assassination on the part of Master Leoni with a sword instead of physic?”
“Does it ever occur to you, Saint Simon, that your tongue runs at times somewhat too fast?” said the doctor coldly.
“Oh yes, often,” was the laughing reply; “but it’s a habit it has. What have I interrupted, though?”
“Master Leoni was giving me a fencing lesson, Saint Simon,” cried the lad eagerly.
“Then you are the luckiest fellow at Court,” cried the new arrival. “Why was I not here? There, pray go on, and let me stand by and learn.”