"Oh, very well; if you will have it, you shall," cried Roy, and, without giving any warning now, he delivered a horizontal blow at the old soldier's side; but it was turned off just as the dozen or so which followed were thrown aside, and then, with a quiet laugh, the old fellow said-- "Now, every time you hit at me, I could have run you through." "No, you couldn't," said Roy, sharply. "Well, we'll see, sir. Put that down, and use this; or, no, keep your sword; the hilt will protect your hand in case I come down upon it." He took up a stout ash stick and threw himself on guard again, waiting for Roy's blow, which he turned off, but before the next could descend, the boy's aim was disordered by a sharp dig in the chest from the end of the ash stick; and so it was as he went on: before he could strike he always received a prod in the chest, ribs, arms, or shoulders. "Oh, I say, Ben," he cried at last; "I didn't know you could use a stick like that." "Suppose not, my lad; but I knew you couldn't use a sword like that. Now, I tell you what: you'd better come to me for an hour every morning before breakfast, and I'll begin to make such a man of you as your father would like to see when he comes back." "Well, I will come, Ben," said the lad; "but my arm does not ache so much now, and I don't feel quite beaten. Let's have another try." "Oh, I'll try all day with you, if you like, sir," said the old soldier; "only, suppose now you stand on guard and let me attack." "With swords?" said Roy, blankly. "No, no," said Ben, laughing; "I don't want to hurt you. We'll keep to sticks. Better still: I want you to get used to handling a sword, so I'll have the stick and you shall defend yourself with a blade." "But that wouldn't be fair to you," cried Roy. "I might hurt you, while you couldn't hurt me." "Couldn't I?" said the old fellow, drily. "I'm afraid I could, and more than you could me. Now, then, take that blade." He took one from the wall, a handsome-looking sword, upon which the armourer who made it had bestowed a good deal of ingenious labour, carving the sides, and ornamenting the hilt with a couple of beautifully fluted representations in steel of the scallop shell, so placed that they formed as complete a protection to the hand of the user as that provided in the basket-hilted Scottish claymore. "Find that too heavy for you, sir?" "It is heavy," said Roy; "but one seems to be able to handle it easily." "Yes, sir; you'll find that will move lightly. You see it's so well balanced by the hilt being made heavy. The blade comes up lightly, and, with a fair chance, I believe I could cut a man in two with it after a few touches on a grindstone." "Ugh!" ejaculated Roy; "horrid!"