So he let De Vac assume to his mind's eye the person of the hated De
Montfort, and it followed that De Vac was nearly surprised into an early
and mortifying defeat by the King's sudden and clever attack.

Henry III had always been accounted a good swordsman, but that day he quite
outdid himself and, in his imagination, was about to run the pseudo De
Montfort through the heart, to the wild acclaim of his audience. For this
fell purpose he had backed the astounded De Vac twice around the hall when,
with a clever feint, and backward step, the master of fence drew the King
into the position he wanted him, and with the suddenness of lightning, a
little twist of his foil sent Henry's weapon clanging across the floor of
the armory.

For an instant, the King stood as tense and white as though the hand of
death had reached out and touched his heart with its icy fingers. The
episode meant more to him than being bested in play by the best swordsman
in England -- for that surely was no disgrace -- to Henry it seemed
prophetic of the outcome of a future struggle when he should stand face to
face with the real De Montfort; and then, seeing in De Vac only the
creature of his imagination with which he had vested the likeness of his
powerful brother-in-law, Henry did what he should like to have done to the
real Leicester. Drawing off his gauntlet he advanced close to De Vac.

"Dog !" he hissed, and struck the master of fence a stinging blow across
the face, and spat upon him. Then he turned on his heel and strode from
the armory.

De Vac had grown old in the service of the kings of England, but he hated
all things English and all Englishmen. The dead King John, though hated by
all others, he had loved, but with the dead King's bones De Vac's loyalty