But to-day it availed him nothing
before Andre-Louis' impetuous attacks.
After the third hit, M. des Amis stepped back and pulled off his
mask.
"What's this?" he asked. He was pale, and his dark brows were
contracted in a frown. Not in years had he been so wounded in his
self-love. "Have you been taught a secret botte?"
He had always boasted that he knew too much about the sword to
believe any nonsense about secret bottes; but this performance of
Andre-Louis' had shaken his convictions on that score.
"No," said Andre-Louis. "I have been working hard; and it happens
that I fence with my brains."
"So I perceive. Well, well, I think I have taught you enough, my
friend. I have no intention of having an assistant who is superior
to myself."
"Little danger of that," said Andre-Louis, smiling pleasantly.
"You have been fencing hard all morning, and you are tired, whilst
I, having done little, am entirely fresh. That is the only secret
of my momentary success."
His tact and the fundamental good-nature of M.
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