Entering at once into the spirit of the anticipated conflict, he attacked Juden with as much ferocity as if he had actually been his foe and rival. He thrust and lunged forward with such fury and rapidity, that Juden, being stout, pursy, less agile, and older by twenty years, was sorely pressed; but being perfect master of the broad-sword, back-sword, and dagger, he stood his ground like a thoroughbred sword-player; and for a time nothing was heard but their suppressed breathing and the clash of the foils. The cheek of Clermistonlee was crimsoned with passion, and his dark eyes flashed with the energy of every cut and thrust; for, in the excitement of the lesson, he seemed to forget that he was not engaged with Walter, waxing wroth when his most able thrusts were parried with such force that his sword-arm tingled up to the very shoulder. Under old General Lesly and the Duke of Hamilton, Juden had often hewn a passage, sword in hand; through the solid ranks of the English pikemen; and, though somewhat blown, he remained perfectly cool, and when he had breath to spare, assumed the part of an instructor. "My Lord, my Lord--hoots, laddie! this will never do. You forget yoursel, and show owre mickle front." "S'death! how so?" "Mind ye--hand and arm, body and sword, should be dressed in one line; and inclining forward, ye should lunge _so_." "Pest! fellow--dost take my bobin vest, for buff coat, or pyne doublet?" Juden laughed as his master spoke. "Rough lessons are suited to rough work. It was just sae at Dunbar; my whinger whistled through a fat Southron's brisket. Touts! my Lord--what na way was that to fient forward? I ken a wile worth twa o' it. Lurch forward sae--making an opening and pawkily inviting a lunge; when giving a _riporte_ at him, ye may _lock in_, as the masters of fence say; that is, seize his sword-arm by twining your left round it--close your parade shell to shell, in order to disarm him, whilk ye sall do just so;" and suiting the action to the word, Juden suddenly closed up and wrenched away his Lordship's foil. "God confound thee, fellow!" exclaimed the fiery Lord, exasperated to find himself so adroitly disarmed; while his bluff old butler, delighted with his own skill and vigour, laughed till his eyes swam. "My Lord," said he, presenting the hilt of the foil, "ye will find yoursel mickle the better o' this rough lesson when crossing blades with our young spark; for my mind sairly misgies me, that Dunbarton's cavaliers are kittle callants to warsle wi'. But ye ken, Clermistonlee, there is no a man in the three Lowdens that could hae dune what I did now. Hech! I am ane o' auld Balgonie's troopers, and mony an ell o' gude English bone and braidcloth I've cloven in my time."