He put it
in a corner of the room, hoping that it would escape attention. But it
had been seen already. Nobody knew what kind of a thing it really was,
but everybody recognised it as a weapon of some sort. Some of the
boldest busied themselves about the corner, so as to have a look at
it. They fingered the covering of the handle, scratched the guard with
their nails, bent the blade, handled the small leather ball. They were
like hares sniffing at a gun which had been lost in the wood. They did
not understand its use, but they knew it for something inimical,
something with a hidden meaning. Presently a belt-maker's apprentice,
whose brother was in the Life Guards, joined the inquisitive throng
and at once decided the question: "Can't you see that it is a sword,
you fools?" he shouted, with a look at Theodore. It was a respectful
look, but a look which also hinted at a secret understanding between
them, which, correctly interpreted, meant: You and I understand these
things! But a young rope-maker, who had once been a trumpeter in a
military band, considered this giving of a verdict without consulting
him a personal slight and declared that he "would be hanged if it
wasn't a rapier!" The consequence was a fight which transformed the
place into a bear-garden, dense with dust and re-echoing with screams
and yells.
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