SIX INCHES OF STEEL.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 13, Issue 1094, 22 October 1869, Page 3

SIX INCHES OF STEEL.

(From "Chambers' Journal.") Yeabs ago— how long I need not tell— l wished to learn the two prominent accomplishments of a gentleman of that day,, fencing and dancing. A Mend gave me* the address of a tenant of his in Russell Square, a French refugee, who taught these arts. One afternoon I called and asked was M. Jacques at home. A stout, heartylooking English girl opened the door, and replied that the old gentleman was in, would I " come in here ?" " Here " was a small room on the right of the passage.. The heavy slipshod feet toiled up the: stone staircase ; I heard a door naif opened, and the murmuring of voices, and then the slipshod feet toiled slowly up another flight, and a firm yet light tread descending told me that M. Jacques was coming. The door opened, and a tall, white-haired, soldier-like figure entered the room, and the keen eyes swallowed me and my belong" ings at a glance. " Good-day, sir. You are English ; but, do you speak French ?" " Unpeu." " Ah ! I see, a very, very little ; let us then talk in your tongue till by and by." . Clearly, I did not speak Frenoh well, in M. Jacques' opinion, " You desire me for what ?" " My friend, Mr. Wilson" "Ah! your friend — he is a very good man — •& gracious man ; yes." "He stated that you could teach fencing and dancing." " Yes, that is true ; I can teach fencing and dancing. Is it for that you want me ?" "It is. , I desire to learn both accomplishments as speedily as possible." " Good ; that is well : I like your energy. When will you begin ?" " Now, if it suits you." " Quite so. lam at your service." "But you have not mentioned the terms." "Terms?" " Yes. How much shall I have to pay ?" "Yes, to pay. I had forgotten. You shall pay me for four lessons, one guinea. Is it well? Are you satisfac—satisfacted ?" "Satisfied." " Yes, that is it. Are you satisfied ?" ' "Quite. I will take twelve lessons in each art." " Twelve lessons ! Bah ! you shall need little when you shall reach the ending of your course, if you have decent, as you call it here — blood — not bourgeois — you understand." "My father, sir, was a surgeon, the son of a poor country gentleman. lam " "JWimporle. lean see what you are. I shall make you a good swordsman in a little time, if you will keep your eye on your adversary as you kept it on me when I made that speech to you. You have what you call "pluck." Is it right— " pluck ?" " Quite right." " Then come, and we shall try your, eye and wrist up-stairs." He went up-stairs, and I followed the old soldier. , We entered a large welllighted room on the first floor, bare of all furniture but a piano, then a rarer instrument than now, and a few chairs. On the piers between the windows hung some foils and masks, while some half-dozen singlesticks stood in the corner. " Now, monsieur, will you place yourself there, as thus: with your body upright, and your arms hanging loosely to your sides, comme ca." The old gentleman put himself in position ; as he did so, I noticed the slightest limp, the slightest possible, but still a limp — that I saw, as I watched him during the lesson, was from a stiffening of the kneejoint. I thought it was a curious thing to be taking lessons in the most active of exercises of an old gentleman who was lame, but I could see at once that he was a most perfect master of the weapon. " That will do for to-day for the sword, monsieur ; now for the dance, if monsieur . is not too much fatigued." " Not at all— not the least." " Well, then, to begin. You know a little of the dance ?" "A very, very little — as little as of French, monsieur." "Ah! you shall know all better in a little." He took from of! the piano a small violin and bow, and ran a rapid scale on the strings. " Good. Now, place yourself comme ca, One, two, three. You see it is simple—. first position, second position, third position — you see. No, no, monsieur, that second position is wrong, all wrong; comme ca. Un, deux, now Peste! my limb is troublesome to-day ; I cannot dance." " Another day " 1 began. He moved to the door, and half-opening it, called impatiently in French : " Julie, descend quickly in your shoes." In a few seconds entered Julie. Julie ! It is a long time now since I first saw Julie. Can I picture her? A tall dark girl, with black — intensely blacklarge eyes, child's eyes ; a small mouth, full lips, and a form thin, bony, and lithe as a greyhound's ; dressed in a low child's dress, . much too small and short for her. She was like a child of ten, seen through a glass that made her the size of a girl of eighteen. "Mademoiselle de Bonheur— Monsieur Arthur Forrester." She courtesied low, in the style then in fashion; I made my best bow. "Julie, my limb is to-day weak ; I cannot teach ; you shall teach thid gentleman his dance." " Oui, mon pere." "Now, begin. Un, deux, trois. Regard mademoiselle's feet, monsieur; it is her feet that dance. Un, deux, trois." And so on for nearly half an hour, during which the eternal " Un, deux, trois " was occasionally interrupted by little snatches of the strings with the fingers, and sudden sweepings of the bow over the instrument. " Good, monsieur : you have life, you have soul; you shall yet dance— you feel the music. It shall be creditable to me to have taught you. — Julie, you shall wish monsieur good-day." "Bonjour, monsieur," said Julie; and with a low courtesy she left us. . " And when will you come again ?" " The day after to-morrow I can come." "Bien; come then. I shall hope my limb will then be well. Bonjour, monsieur ;'*• and the old gentleman raug ; the bell and bowed me out. : ; The day came, and I went again, and was directly shewn up-stairs into the room; "Ah, monsieur, we are unfortunate j my limb is no use. This climate of youra ia

Jg bad M old soldiers ; my wounded limb abh6sK#Mt of t)ie suri.' ? ",I ; al#!beglaAcaH pother day, if more convenient." "No, no ; it is of no consequence ; Julie will teach^you. Will you. be so kind as to openvthe door for me?- 4 -! am crippled;" "Certainly;' "Julie, Julie !" thundered the old man ; "descend; quickly,' with your^ shoes and your corsage" Julie came in speedily, and with a small leather breast-guard in her hand. ■ " Bonjour,: monsieur.'? "Bonjdur, Mademoiselle Ju-^-^-de Bonheuft? 1 ! i. .. "See, now, you shall take your lessons from mademoiselle," said' monsieur, as he buckled on her leather armour and fitted her:, mask. "Now, salute. Julie, salute.'! ■ Julie went through the motions with an ease and grace that excelled her father's. . " Now, you must regard the hand ot mademoiselle; the time has not come to you to watch her eyes. Now, en guard. Good. Carte — thrust." I thrust as gently as possible, while Julie, with the foil in her left hand, slipped the fingers of the right along my blade to aid the bend — in true fencing style. "Bah! Monsieur, do not fear; it has not arrived to you yet to be dangerous to mademoiselle. Again, that. You must lunge with your body, and of mademoiselle have no fear; she can guard herself. Your nails up a little more: -Now, the cartethrust. That is better. Again." The situation was horrible ; to be compelled to thrust full in the chest of this child; but there was no help for it, and I did it; and so we went on through the whole of the motions—prime, second, quint, parade, loW catate, and the rest of it— Julie placing herself in the proper positions, and thrusting and guarding with a vigour and grace that more than equalled her teacher's. After the fencing came the dancing, with its " Un, deiix, trois," and a repetition of th.6 caution that mademoiselle's feet should be regarded, as it was with those she was teaching. The limb continued weak for some time, and the lessons continued to be given by Julie, 1 and as my eyes began to get accustomed to look on hers through the haze of the wires of the mask — for I had become practised enough to be permitted to cross foils with' her in real attack and defence— l saw' a ■change had come over them; the child was growing a woman : there was no longer the stare of childish curiosity, or the simple glance of the practised fencer ; there was more, the woman's soul waking in them. Herform altered ; the angles were becoming rounded, the grace was more graceful, but the thin tightly stretched skin on the face and shoulders, that altered but little. One day I bought a box of chocolates for the ol<? gentleman, who was at last well enough to take the foils ; he ate some, and gave the box tb Julie, and we went on with our lesson, she remaining in the room for the dattcing. ' When the lesson was over, he said : " Ah ! how I will enjoy one of your little chocolates." Julie started as* if from a dream — the box was empty. He laughed, and said : "Ah, my child, you are so fond of chocolates,' you' have not left your father one. Ah, coqiiine'^md he pinched her ear — — " ah, : greedy one !" She blushed, the tears started to her eyes, she. said nothing. "BaKI NOW, monsieur, I have broken my string.— Julie, go get me No ; you don't know where ; I'll myself go.— Mademoiselle shall play you some music while I am gone, monsieur; in a few minutes I shall return." The old man left the room with his instrument, and Julie turned to the piano and sat down. As I opened it, she said, with a voice full of tears : " Monsieur, you must not "think me a greedy child." "But," said Ijaughingly, "you ate the whole box." "True, monsieur ; but since last Sunday I have eaten nothing but some breadsince yesterday, nothing. I am not greedy ; I was only hungry and forgetful." "My God, mademoiselle ! what can you mean ? You are destroying yourself. Why did you not eat — at your age ?" "At my age ! There was nothing to eat ; after Mary had eaten, there was nothing to eat." "Heavens! Poor child ! is this possible ! I, wretch that I am, have never once offered to. pay your father what I owe him ; vihy, I have had one. course of lessons after another, and paid for none. Why did not your father speak— remind me ?" " Monsieur de Bonheur would die first." "I will pay this moment. Fool that I was, not to see it in your face !" "Am I then «o thin P"' "Thin! poor child!" "Child! lam seventeen, monsieur." " Seventeen, mademoiselle !" " Oui, monsieur ; j'ai dix-sept ans." "I am very sorry; I will at once see your; father." "t)o riot disturb yourself so much, monsieur ;it is nothing. If it had not been for the chocolates, you would not have known about it at all, but I could not let you think me a greedy child. You will not speak to my father, as if I had told you ? Promise me. He would never forgive me." " Mademoiselle, I promise." The old gentleman now entered with the new string properly adjusted, and once more we began the one, two, three, four. " Machinalement, Julie, machinalement; monsieur is to learn to dance, not to dance for his pleasure. Again that. Un, deux, troia, comme ca." And so we went through the minuet and the new waltz, to the scraping of the violin ; and whenever -we moved a little too much, as though we were dancing for pleasure instead- of 'practice, the old gentleman's " Machinaiement, Julie, un, deux, trois," speedily brought us to task level. At the close of. the lesson, I stated that I was uncertain about being able to come againlfp,r r spme time, and should be glad to discharge, as far as money could, my obligations ; to; him. " $ Importe,Jmonsieur ; 'when you have completed, will be good." "I must beg you to allow me to settle the matter, now" : ■ "Bien,' f said monsieur, with a shrug, f* ii you wish it;";, and he dropped the guinea* without counting them into his wafetcoal poekej^with; an air of indifference thai would .(have, been laughable but for the story^jkhad just heard from poor Julie. ,] left the house, and waited at the streetcorner Jo a^^hat.w'puldi happen ; and in i few i^ufees^laawjthe. English girl come - out w^h her basket, and presently returi:

with something in the basket, and on the top a little bottle of foreign make; and : then I left, determined "that while my ignorance of fencing and dancing could prevent it, Julie should never eat another box of . chocolates from sheer hunger. It was more than a week before ' I again went to the house. The. change was complete ; Julie was a woman, a beautiful brilliant woman. Food had acted on her as by magic. Her dress too was altered, higher in the throat, lower in the skirt, but still short enough to shew the most delicate foot arid ankle I ever saw. The old man saw no difference. When the limb was well, I fenced with him while 1 Julie played ; when the limb was bad, I ' fenced and danced with Julie, with only an I occasional "Plus machinaltement, Julie; i un, deux, trois." And 1 so it went on for months, till the . old g'6htleman said to I me : " Monsieur, it is'tirtfe' for you to leave ! us. You are a good swordsman : it is only ' practice that you need to be one of the best. • I can no longer take your money for teaching you, as I can teach you nothing." ! I pleaded for just one more course of L lessons : I could not yet disarm. • " True, monsieur, you cannot ; you shall have one more course of lessons. My ! wrist is now getting stiff, as well as my 1 limb; but Julie's is of steel. She shall > teach you. When you can disarm Julie, > there is no more we can teach you." ' I don't know how it happened, but just •at this time, when my admiration — I don't say love, but admiration — for Julie was at ■ its highest point, I fell in love, literally i headlong; not a moment's warning was '. given me. I went to my mother's one i evening, and on entering the room, saw my destiny. i I went to take my lessons as usual, but I i took no interest in them. I was changed ; . and never did I get fiercer thrusts in the fencing lessons. Six or eight times, my i foil sprang out of my hand, as if I had been ? a novice. I was nettled. What had made ' Julie so angry ? There was a flash in her i eye. What had I done or said to cause it? I gave up guessing, and attended to the lesson once more. Her foil, like a lithe serpent, seized mine, and threw it with a loud clang against the wall. • " Doucement, Julie ; doucement ma fille ; doucement. Monsieur is fatigued. You had better cease." And never once during the dancing lesson that followed was uttered the usual " Machinalemeiht, Julie;" all the life and energy seemed to have left her. The next lesson presented the same features, a little more subdued. Between the third and last lesson, I happened to meet Julie and her father in the street; I bowed; and my companion asked who they were. " My fencing-master and his child." "Child I.Arthur." "Daughter, I should have said. I'm going there to-morrow for my last lesson." " Oh !" And my destiny was more silent than usual during our walk home. On the morrow, I went to Russell Square ; and before we had been engaged ten minutes, the old gentleman was called away to see some visitor. He left the room with an apology to me, and I turned to renew my contest with Julie. She had thrown aside her mask, and was standing with the point of the foil in her left hand. " Now, Julie," said I— for insensibly we had dropped into the way of calling each other Julie and Arthur—" now, Julie, once more." "My name is Bonheur, monsieur ; Mademoiselle de Bonheur. Who was that blonde Englishwoman I met you with yesterday ?" "Who was it? That lady, Julie, will be my wife in less than a month.— Wha^s the matter, Julie ? Are you ill ?" "It is nothing. Take off your mask: we need not always play like children, monsieur." I threw it off into the corner of the room, and we began. I was quite cool ; she evidently under the influence of some strong passion, with amazing energy. Therefore she lunged at me with all her force and skill, and I felt once, as the point of her foil glided down mine, that though the leather was there, the button at the end was gone. " The button of your foil is off, mademoiselle." "I know it, monsieur; I have taken it off. Now, monsieur, you shall be married in a month, but not as you are. It is your fair, false face she loves ; but it shall not be fair : she shall find marks on it that will change it ! It shall not be the face that I know so well that shall be hers to caress ! ! N0.n0." "But, Julie"— "Be guarded, monsieur ; the foil has no button. I doubt if you shall live a month." And she attacked me with a fury that made me need every artifice she had taught me to ward off her thrusts. At last, it came carte over the arm ; I parried badly, and the pointed blade ripped up my arm from wrist to shoulder. The moment she saw the blood, she threw away the foil, and rushed towards : me. I sank on to the couch fainting from i loss of blood, with just strength enough left i to say : " Break off the point, Julie, dear," and then swooned. When I came to, my arm was bound up, ! and I heard her sob as I lay with my mind i awake but my body motionless : " Oh, my Arthur ! my love ! I have killed you ! I have : killed you, for whom I would have died ! s Oh, wretch that I am, he will die — he will , die!" She laid her face on my breast, and shook I me with her sobs. " Don't cry, Julie, don't ! cry ; it, was an accident, I know, and " , " No — you will live — you must live to ■ forgive me. It was not an accident— l i meant to kill you, wretch that I am !" ' I could only say: "Don't cry, Julie, dear. What do they say ? Where is tbe '. point ? Give it me." s She gave me the broken-off part of the i. foil. I saw it had been rubbed on some stone till it was as sharp as a needle. When M. de Bonheur returned, he i brought with him his visitor, who by good fortune happened to be an old comrade of ! his. Well, are you better now ? How did it f happen P" i " The point of the foil broke off, and the b edge took me on the wrist as I lunged." b "Bah! — Julie, you must have guarded i very badly. to do that. Where is the foil? [ Yes ; I see the point ia broken off. Where ■ is the point?" i "It must be about the room." 3 The visitor looked at Julie, arid said : i "It does not matter ; it can be found by

and by, when this i gentleman has gone. He will be strong en< )ugh in an hour to gomeanwhile, let hi m rest a little ; Julie can take cave of bimi'" " " Ab, Julie, bu it it was awkward guard of yours, and the foiil too must have been bad; I shall have to complain to the maker." Poor Julie sat by me, quite penitent and quite forgiven, foil 1 an hour or more, and. when we heard them coming, I turned to b.er and said: "I quite forgive you, Julie, denr ; you must love nxe still like a brother, us I shall love you like a. sister." And then — well, -there's no harm in these things between brothers and sisters— and then I went home, rather faint and weak, to explain matters, and meet my destiny. As for Julie, the family property of the De Bonheurs was restored to the old gentleman some months afterwards, and they quitted England ; soon after which I received from the Marquise de Charenton a letter which I afc once burned, beginning, "My dear Brother," and ending, " Your most affectionate sister, Julie." Among the treasures of the past which 1 I, like others, keep so carefully and so secretly, there is a packet that contains six inches of steel, and on it is engraved but one word — " Julie."