The Archduke hesitated.... “No, not unless it becomes necessary; it would only make them unduly nervous; but if trouble come, they must know.”
“I can protect myself, a little while,” said she, slapping her sword in laughing bravado; though indeed she was very clever with the foils.
To her quick eye and natural talent had been added years of careful training under expert maîtres; for, to Frederick, she was both son and daughter, and he had encouraged her in everything that went to strengthen body or mind. Yet she was so very modest about it, that only very lately had even Armand known of her proficiency; and now, he regularly put on the mask and plastron with her, and had her present when Moore and he were practicing.
“And for more than a little while,” the Archduke replied; “and if you do have to draw, try to forget you’re fencing with pointed weapons, and bear in mind only that you must not be touched.”
She leaned closer to him.
“Goodness Armand, you make me afraid,” she said, with a little shiver; “I don’t want to fight any one.”
“Please God you won’t have to, dear, but if you do, remember that the surest way to save your life is to take the other fellow’s.”
She shivered again. “I shouldn’t want to be a man.”
He slipped his arm around her and bent down.
“Let me send you back to the Palace, sweetheart,” he whispered—“for my sake go back.”