“What an odd noise they make!” cried Madame Berger, listening at the door before she again knocked, “what a very odd noise!” Her curiosity was excited, and without waiting for an answer to her second summons, she opened the door and discovered Hamilton and his German master completely equipped with foils and visors, fencing most energetically. Chairs and tables were heaped up in a corner, and so well matched and eager were the combatants that they long remained unconscious of the presence of spectators. “A new way to learn German!” said Madame Berger to Hildegarde, who was sitting at the window reading. “Our lesson is long ended,” she replied, closing her book. “Then pray why did you not come to the drawing-room?” asked Madame Berger. “Because it is quieter here,” replied Hildegarde. “Quieter! Do you call this quiet? I could not read a word if I heard the clashing of swords.” “They are only foils; and I have got used to the sound—boxing is quieter; but they are not well matched, I believe, as Mr. Biedermann is only a beginner.” “Why, Theodor, is it possible you are learning to box like an Englishman? I should like of all things to know what it is like. Pray do box a little for me.” “No, thank you; I do not appear to advantage. In fencing we are well-matched,” he said, playing with the foil as he looked towards Hamilton for confirmation; “but you must not forget that you have promised to come to my room some day and try how you can manage a sabre.” “Your horse is saddled, sir,” cried Hans, in a loud voice, at the door. “Well, come in,” cried Hamilton, “and put the chairs and tables in their places; and, next time, when you see I have visitors, say nothing about the horse.” “Beg pardon, sir, I thought only our young ladies were in the room.” “Oh, promise to ride up and down the street to show your horse to us,” cried Madame Berger, “I am so fond of seeing horses. Come, Crescenz, let us look out of the window—and you may come too,” she added graciously to Theodor as she left the room. When Hamilton was about to mount, he looked up towards the house, but saw so many heads looking out of so many windows that he desired Hans to parade the horse for him. It was in vain Madame Berger opened the window and called out to him—he stood with his arms folded, admiring the animal himself while it was being put through all its paces, and then quietly mounting, rode very slowly from the door. “Why, Theodor you told me he was a famous rider,” cried Madame Berger, with evident disappointment. “And so he is; but he does not like to show off, it seems.” “It would have been a vast deal civiller if he had stayed at home to amuse us to-day. It is going to rain, too, and I am sure he will be wet through and through—it is a comfort to think he deserves it.”