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Updated: September 9, 2025
"Well," he observed, addressing Batley, "you have the courage of your convictions if you have offered to maintain them against all comers, which I understand is what you have done." The man nodded carelessly and Lisle went on: "After all, since I dare say these gentlemen are more used to the shotgun, your superiority doesn't prove very much." Crestwick looked around at him quickly.
There were no counters on it, but Gladwyne had just noted something in a little book and was waiting with a languid smile upon his handsome face. Next to him sat Batley, looking thoughtful; and Crestwick sat opposite Lisle, eager and unhealthily flushed. His forehead showed damp in the lamplight and there was an unpleasant glitter in his eyes.
It was late at night, but Gladwyne sat, cigar in hand, in his library, while Batley lounged beside the hearth. A wood fire diffused a faint aromatic fragrance into the great high-ceilinged room, and the light of a single silver lamp flickered on the polished floor, which ran back like a sheet of black ice into the shadow.
Nasmyth asked. Batley laughed. "Not altogether. The fact is, he's carrying a good deal of my money." "One should have imagined that you'd have had him well insured." "That's quite correct. If he came to grief in England, I shouldn't anticipate any trouble, but it would be different out here and, everything considered, I'd rather avoid complications with the insurance companies.
He spoke in a breathless gasp as he thrust it upward; Lisle's legs swung free and he disappeared beyond the edge. The two below were conscious of a vast relief. It was tempered, however, by the knowledge that they must shortly emulate their companion's exploit. "Take off your pack!" Batley called to Lisle. "Split the bag, if it's necessary, and lower the end! But be quick!
Gladwyne flushed, but Batley proceeded: "I may remind you that when I financed you I was led to believe that you would succeed to a handsome property; not one that was stripped of its working capital. I'll give you credit for misleading me rather cleverly. All this is to the point, because it explains my watchful attitude. You're the kind of man I prefer to keep in sight."
Near to it is Lady Anne's well; "Lady Anne," according to tradition, having been worried and eaten by wolves as she sat at the well, to which the indigo-dyed factory people from Birstall and Batley woollen mills would formerly repair on Palm Sunday, when the waters possess remarkable medicinal efficacy; and it is still believed by some that they assume a strange variety of colours at six o'clock on the morning of that day.
"You have just called on Gladwyne," Batley began. Lisle stopped. There was, so far as he knew, nothing to be said in favor of the man, but his cool boldness was tempered by a certain geniality and an occasional candor that the Canadian could not help appreciating. He preferred Batley to Gladwyne. "That's so," he agreed. "I'm inclined to think your visit concerned me.
"Then Batley wanted to sell that silly lad some worthless shares and there were other people looking on?" He would not tell her that Gladwyne had watched the proceedings, to some extent acquiescing. "I thought from what you said that you knew all about it," he answered. "No," she replied, suspecting the truth, but seeing that it would be difficult to extract anything definite from him.
How to make coyottes out of paraffin paint, or convert a Sunday pair of pants into a glistening harem skirt! Anything that won't remind us of food." Thus encouraged Kelson slowly turned over the pages of the book. "I see it was printed and published for I presume that means by A. Bettesworth and J. Batley in Pater-noster-Row, London, England, in 1690. Basle, London, Boston, Madrid!
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