John Loveday and Lord
Fairholm to the fencing school of Maitre Dalboy, the great fencing
master of the day. Rupert had been looking forward much to this
visit, as he was anxious to see what was the degree of proficiency
of the young court gallants in the art which he so much loved.

Maitre Dalboy's school was a fashionable lounge of the young men of
the court and army. It was a large and lofty room, and some six
assistants were in the act of giving instructions to beginners, or
of fencing with more advanced students, when the trio entered.
Maitre Dalboy himself came up to greet them, for both Rupert's
friends had been his pupils.

"You are strangers," he said reproachfully. "How are your muscles
to keep in good order, and your eye true, if you do not practise?
It is heart rending! I take every pains to turn out accomplished
swordsmen; and no sooner have my pupils learned something of the
business, than they begin to forget it."

"We shall begin to put your teaching into effect before long,
Maitre Dalboy," Sir John Loveday said, with a smile, "for we are
going over to join the army in Holland in a few weeks, and we shall
then have an opportunity of trying the utility of the parries you
have taught us."

"It is too bad," the Frenchman said, shrugging his shoulders, "that
my pupils should use the science I have taught them against my
countrymen; but what would you have? It is the fortune of war. Is
this young gentleman a new pupil that you have brought me?"

"No, indeed," Lord Fairholm said; "this is Master Rupert Holliday,
a cornet in the 5th regiment of dragoons, who is also about to
start for Holland."

"I have had the advantage of learning from a countryman of yours,
Monsieur Dalboy," Rupert said, "a Monsieur Dessin, who is good
enough to teach the noble art in the town of Derby."

"Dessin! Dessin!" Maitre Dalboy said, thoughtfully "I do not
remember the name among our maitres d'escrime."

"The Earl of Marlborough himself vouches for the skill of Master
Holliday with the sword. His grandfather, Colonel Holliday, was, I
believe, noted as one of the finest blades at the court of Saint
Germains."

"I have heard of him," Monsieur Dalboy said, with interest. "Let me
think; he wounded the Marquis de Beauchamp, who was considered one
of the best swordsmen in France. Yes, yes, his fame as a swordsman
is still remembered. And he is alive yet?"

"Alive and active," Rupert said; "and although, as he says himself,