“Just wherever you like, sir,—if you can.”
The boy made a quick dart forward with his stick, and it passed by his teacher, who parried with the slightest movement of his wrist.
“I said thrust, sir.”
“Well, I did thrust.”
“That wasn’t a thrust, sir; that was only a poke. It wouldn’t have gone through a man’s coat, let alone his skin. Now, again!”
The boy made another push forward with his stick, which was also parried.
“Nay, that won’t do, my lad; so let’s get to something better. Now, I’m going to thrust at you right in the chest. Enemies don’t tell you where they’re going to hit you, but I’m going to tell you. Now, look out!”
Roy prepared to guard the thrust, but the point of the old man’s stick struck him sharply in the chest, and he winced a little, but smiled.
“Now, sir, you do that, but harder.”
Roy obeyed, but failed dismally.