H. C. Bailey

H. C. Bailey

Summary

Portrait of H. C. Bailey H. C. Bailey Sir Bertram's Tryst (1905)

In peace and honour, good Sir Bertram," he whined. But Bertram made him no answer. Now Denis had rolled up to them, and Bertram, stooping an instant, sliced his bonds. "Shut the door, Denis; we would be alone," said Bertram.
Tottering, numb and stiff, Denis rose and stumbled to the door. The men swore at him, but durst no more, and the door was shut. "Irons, man, irons!" muttered Bertram; and Denis looked dazed an instant, then caught up two of the torture irons that were pointed, and drove them under the door, so that they held like wedges.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. C. Bailey H. C. Bailey Sir Bertram's Tryst (1905)

Ah, Sir Bertram, I am ashamed; but—but—truly 'twas overhard——" Bertram came and gripped Denis's hand.
"Denis, what man dare blame?" he said, "Not I, faith! nor any man that hath loved." Then he laughed. "Pardi, what hurt have I? And——" Some sound came from without—the dull tramp of feet, the clatter of steel. Bertram ran to the narrow slit that served for window. The crag was alive with men.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. C. Bailey H. C. Bailey Sir Bertram's Tryst (1905)

Shalt write and say thou hast been sore hurt in a fall, and liest in a peasant's hut—dost pray him come to take thy last words to thy leman—for the love of God." Percy laughed, well pleased with himself. "’Twill work with the fool, that last." Denis set his teeth.
"Never!" he muttered.
"Oh, a stubborn spirit! Sear his cheek, Boris." Boris, a swarthy rogue, took an iron, red hot, from the brazier. "Wilt write, my lord Denis?" quoth Percy, laughing. Denis made no sound. Only Enid was moaning. Boris brought the iron very near. Then Percy de Vigne stayed him suddenly.
Source: Wikisource

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