“Enough, Robert,” he said, “I can’t allow you to tire yourself tonight, and run the risk of stiffening in the wrist tomorrow.  In strength you are superior to de Mezy, and in wind far better.  You should have no trouble with him.  Watch his eye and stand for a while on the defensive.  One of his habits, will soon wear himself down, and then he will be at your mercy.”

“You are a wonderful swordsman, Mr. Willet,” said de Galisonniere, frank in his admiration.  “I did not think such skill, such power and such a variety in attack and defense could be learned outside of Paris.”

“Perhaps not!” said Willet, smiling.  “The greatest masters of the sword in the world teach in Paris, and it was there that I learned what I know.”

“What, you have been in Paris?”

“Aye, Captain de Galisonniere, I know my Paris well.”

But he volunteered nothing further and Louis de Galisonniere’s delicacy kept him from asking any more questions.  Nevertheless he had an intensified conviction that three most extraordinary people had come to Quebec, and he was glad to know them.  Jean de Mezy, count of France, and powerful man though he might be, was going to receive a punishment richly deserved.  He detested Bigot, Cadet, Pean and all their corrupt crowd, while recognizing the fact that they were almost supreme in Quebec.  It would be pleasing to the gods for de Mezy to be humiliated, and it did not matter if the humiliation came from the hands of a Bostonnais.

“Would you mind trying a round or two at the foils with me?” he said to Willet.  “Since you don’t have to fight in the morning you needn’t fear any stiffening of the wrist, and I should like to learn something about that low thrust of yours, the one well beneath your opponent’s guard, and which only a movement like lightning can reach.  You used it five times, unless my eye missed a sixth.”

“And so you noticed it!” said Willet, looking pleased.  “I made six such thrusts, but Robert met them every time.  I’ve trained him to be on the watch for it, because in a real combat it’s sure to be fatal, unless it’s parried with the swiftness of thought.”

“Then teach me,” said de Galisonniere eagerly.  “We’re a fighting lot here in Quebec, and it may save my life some day.”

Willet was not at all averse, and for nearly an hour he taught the young Frenchman.  Then de Galisonniere departed, cautioning Robert to sleep well, and saying that he would come early in the morning with his friend, Glandelet.

“His advice about sleeping was good, Robert,” said Willet.  “Now roll into bed and off with you to slumberland at once.”

Robert obeyed and his nerves were so steady and his mind so thoroughly at peace that in fifteen minutes he slept.  The hunter watched his steady breathing with satisfaction and said to Tayoga: 

“If our bibulous friend, Count Jean de Mezy, doesn’t have a surprise in the morning, then I’ll go back to the woods, and stay there as long as I live.”