H. C. Bailey

“ Stunned he fell, and Bertram vaulted down and snatched his shield, caught up the girl, and galloped away.
"Ah, my knight!" said the girl softly.
"The worst is not met," said Bertram, looking through the sunlight to the yellow coats of the footmen. The girl laughed low. I have never been minded to envy those Welsh footmen who had to meet Sir Bertram charging down upon them with a girl on his heart. Many they were, and stout little men of their hands, and naught had Bertram save Bedivere's speed and his own sword-arm. ”

“ His own steed Bedivere felt him grow mightily heavy, as a man does who is dead with weariness and cannot yield to his horse. Now the Lady Elinor (who never once looked at Sir Bertram) saw him a clumsy lump in the saddle and told herself that the boor could not even ride. Justice forgive her! Shall I warn you again of being in a hurry?
So, happily, they came to Whitchurch, and there before the door of the royal pavilion was the Bishop of Durham, there also Sir Roger de Belesme, very splendid in cloth of silver. ”

“ Riding two and two, a score of them, they came to the old moss-green house beyond Tarporley. Maids and men running up swept the ground in bows and curtsies. Then it was told Sir Bertram that the Lady Elinor was in the apple-orchard. So Sir Bertram's great charger, Bedivere, must needs pick his feet daintily down the narrow path and through the narrow gap in the high yew hedge, and the huge pair of them, man and horse, backed by the golden sun of a morning in June, came to the orchard and the Dew Pond and a vision. ”

“ But for the King's hurry there had been no need for Sir Harry to make fiction, nor spend his money on buckram coats, nor had two real Welshmen gone home with broken heads. Blameless only are the two true lovers. ”

“ And why?"
"At least, from the Bishop of Durham, in the King's name. It is feared that Tarporley may be in danger of the war, and I am sent to escort you to Whitchurch"; so Bertram telling all he knew. The lady gave him a curtsy.
"In truth I am honoured," she murmured; and he would have given much to know whether she laughed at him or no. Then she broke the seal and began to read that florid letter. Bertram had a chance to watch her face, and he saw it suddenly crimson as a rose. She crumpled the parchment in her hand; her eyes flashed; her bosom rose stormily.
"And is thy name Roger?" ”

“ For the cause of all was nothing but the King's hurry. You cannot think it right that a King should ever be in a hurry. Now, hear what came of that deplorable moment, perpend and hereafter be leisurely. ”

“ Sir Bertram, I know, thought very meanly of both, and, to tell truth, Sir Roger was inches too plump to be romantic. Bertram was not joyous, and that was noted by his friend and sworn brother, young Sir Harry of Silvermere, who, dining with him at the "Wheatsheaf," complained that Bertram did not laugh at his jokes.
"And these same jests have made men laugh these five years past," says Harry. Bertram grunted. "Even my wife laughs at them sometimes." Bertram grunted again. "And if a man can make his wife laugh, sure he can give a laugh to any." Bertram grunted a third time. "But, faith! ”