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.
"Of course," said Ben. "Now that's because you didn't try the right way, sir. Don't poke at a man, but throw your arm right back till you get your hand level with your shoulder, and sword and arm just in a line. Then thrust right out, and let your body follow your arm,--then you get some strength into it. Now, once more."
Roy followed his teacher's instructions.
"Better--ever so much, sir. Now again--good; again--good. You'll soon do it. Now, can't you see what a lot of weight you get into a thrust like that? One of your pokes would have done nothing. One like that last would have sent your blade through a man. Now again."
Roy was now fully upon his mettle, and he tried hard to acquire some portion of the old soldier's skill, till his arm ached, and Ben cried "Halt!" and began to chat about the old-fashioned armour.
"Lots of it was too clumsy, sir. Strong men were regularly loaded down; and I've thought for a long time that all a man wants is a steel cap and steel gloves. All the rest he ought to be able to do with his sword."
"But you can't ward off bullets with a sword, Ben," said Roy.
"No, sir; nor you can't ward 'em off with armour. They find out the jyntes, if they don't go through."
"Would that suit of half-armour be much too big for me, Ben?" said Roy, pausing before a bronzed ornamental set of defensive weapons, which had evidently been the work of some Italian artist.
"No, sir, I shouldn't think it would. You see that was made for a small man, and you're a big lad. If you were to put that on, and used a bit o' stuffing here and there, you wouldn't be so much amiss. It's in fine condition, too, with its leather lining, and that's all as lissome and good as when it was first made."
"I should like to try that on some day, Ben," said the boy, eagerly examining the handsome suit.
"Well, I don't see why not, sir. You'd look fine in that. Wants three or four white ostrich feathers in the little gilt holder of the helmet.
White uns would look well with that dark armour. Looks just like copper, don't it?"
"How long would it take to put it on?" said Roy.
"Hour, sir; and you'd want some high buff boots to wear with it."
"An hour?" said Roy. "There wouldn't be time before breakfast."
"No, sir. But I tell you what--I've only cleaned and polished and iled the straps. If you feels as if you'd like to put it on, I'll go over it well, and see to the buckles and studs: shall I?"
"Yes, do, Ben."
"That I will, sir. And I say, if, when you're ready, I was to saddle one of the horses proper, and you was to mount and her ladyship see you, she'd be sorry as ever she wanted you to be a statesman."
Roy shook his head dubiously.
"Oh, but she would, sir. Man looks grand in his armour and feathers."
"But I'm only a boy," said Roy, sadly.
"Who's to know that when you're in armour and your visor down, sir? A suit of armour like that, and you on a grand horse, would make a man of you. It's fine, and no mistake."
"But you were sneering at armour a little while ago, Ben," said Roy.
"For fighting in, sir, but not for show. You see, there's something about armour and feathers and flags that gets hold of people, and a soldier's a man who likes to look well. I'm an old un now, but I wouldn't say no to a good new uniform, with a bit o' colour in it; but if you want me to fight, I don't want to be all plates and things like a lobster, and not able to move. I want to be free to use my arms. Right enough for show, sir, and make a regiment look handsome; but fighting's like gardening,--want to take your coat off when you go to work."
"But you will get that armour ready, Ben?"
"Course I will, sir. On'y too glad to see you take a liking to a bit o'
armour and a sword. Now, then, what do you say to beginning again?"
"I'm ready," said Roy, but with a longing look at the armour.
"Then you shall just put that helmet on, and have the visor down. You won't be able to see so well, but it will save your face from an accidental cut."
He placed the helmet on the boy's head, adjusted the cheek straps, and drew back.
"Find it heavy, sir?"
"Rather! Feels as if it would topple off as soon as I begin to move."
"But it won't, sir. The leather cap inside will stop that. Now, then, if you please, we'll begin. I'm going to cut at you slowly and softly, and you've got to guard yourself, and then turn off. I shall be very slow, but after a bit I shall cut like lightning, and before I've done I shan't be no more able to hit you than you're able now to hit me."
Roy said nothing, and the man began cutting at him to right and to left, upward from the same direction and downward, as if bent upon cleaving his shoulders; and for every cut Ben showed him how to make the proper guard, holding his weapon so that the stroke should glance off, and laying especial weight upon the necessity for catching the blow aimed upon the _forte_ of the blade toward the hilt, and not upon the _faible_ near the point.
Then came the turn of the head, and the horizontal and down right cuts were, after further instruction, received so that they, too, glanced off. Roy gaining more and more confidence at every stroke. But that helmet was an utter nuisance, and half buried the wearer.
"I'm beginning to think you're right, Ben, about the armour," said the lad, at last.
"Yes, 'tis a bit awkward, sir; but you'll get used to it. If you can defend yourself well with that on, why, of course, you can without.
Now, then, suppose, for a change, you have a cut at me."
"Why, what tomfoolery is this?" said a highly-pitched voice; and Roy tried to s.n.a.t.c.h off his helmet as he caught sight of the secretary standing in the door-way looking on.
But the helmet would not come off easily, and, after a tug or two, Roy was fain to turn to the old soldier.
"Here," he said, hastily, "unfasten this, Ben, quick!"
"Yes, sir; but I don't see as you've any call to be in such a hurry.
You've a right to learn to use a sword if you like. Only the strap fastened over this stud, and there you are."
Red-faced and annoyed, Roy faced the secretary, who had walked slowly into the armoury, to stand looking about him with a sneer of contempt upon his lip.
"Only practising a little sword-play, sir," said the boy, as soon as his head was relieved.
"Sword-play! Is there no other kind of play a boy like you can take to?
What do you want with sword-play?"
"My father's a soldier," said Roy.
"Yes; but you are not going to be a fighting man, sir; and, behindhand as you are with your studies, I think you might try a little more to do your instructor credit, and not waste time with one of the servants in such a barbaric pursuit as this. Lady Royland is waiting breakfast.
You had better come at once."