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Updated: May 9, 2025
Pless has squandered the first million and now he wants the balance due him. A trade's a trade, John. The old man ought to pay up. He went into it with his eyes open, and I haven't an atom of sympathy for him. You have read that book of Mrs. O'Burnett's, haven't you? 'The Shuttle'? Well, there you are.
The former had resented a sharp criticism coming from the latter, and they were waging a verbal battle in what I took to be five or six different tongues, none of which appeared to bear the slightest relationship to the English language. Suddenly Mr. Pless threw his cards down and left the table, without a word of apology to the two ladies, who looked more hurt than appalled.
"I am perfectly aware of it," said Mr Escot. "True, true," continued the sexton; "put to pe sure, Owen Thomas of Morfa-Bach will have it that one summer evening when he went over to Cwm Cynfael in Meirionnydd, apout some cattles he wanted to puy he saw a strange figure pless us! with five horns!
MacEvoy attends, bustles about, and desires to see everything is in first-rate order, and to tell me, Cot pless us, the wonderful news of the palace for the day.
For her new foe was a woman, and a woman trying to speak in defence of the husband against whose arm she clung. "Ah-h-h!" Her chin went up; her eyes shot lightning; she folded her arms fiercely, and drew herself to her best height; and, as Richling's eyes shot back in rising indignation, cried: "Ziss pless? 'Tis not ze pless! Zis pless is diss'nt pless! I am diss'nt woman, me!
"Wasn't he paid in full?" I asked, with a slight sneer. "What do you mean?" "Didn't he get his money?" "I am sure I don't see what money has to do with the case," said Elsie, with dignity. "Mr. Pless is a poor man I've heard. There could not have been very much of a marriage settlement." "A mere million to start with," remarked Billy Smith ironically.
Her eyes met his, unwavering, bespeaking her implicit faith. "Promise!" "I promise." "We'll have to drop off in a minute. The horse won't last.... They're in the same box. Well, I undertake to stand 'em off for a bit; you take the bag and run for it. Just as soon as I can convince them, I'll follow, but if there's any delay, you call the first cab you see and drive to the Pless.
But even at that he displayed considerable cunning in not forgetting what room the luggage belonged in, thereby saving himself a trip all the way down to the office and back with the trunk. Mr. Pless welcomed me with a great deal of warmth. He called me "dear old fellow" and shook hands with me with more heartiness than I had thought him capable of expressing.
Without hesitation the woman took a little hand-bag from the seat of the carriage and produced a card; her son likewise found his case and handed the officer an oblong slip. "I've no cards with me," the American told the policeman; "my name, however, is Philip Kirkwood, and I'm staying at the Pless." "Very good, sir; thank you." The man penciled the information in his little book.
"Oh, we sha'n't find it, of course," said she calmly. I made note of the pronoun. "They've been searching for it for two centuries without success. My that is, Mr. Pless has spent days down there. He is very hard-up, you know. It would come in very handy for him." I glowered. "I'm glad he's gone. I don't like the idea of his looking for treasures in my castle." She gave me a smile for that.
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