The times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1897-1901, 1901-03-24

Seniors, senors," he cried, no blood
shed"
Right" said he of the doublet. no
bloodshed until tomorrow. As for you,
sit down; l have a mind that We play
a cast of the dice presently"
Number Mines face. pallid enough with
CHASTITY. and he shook all over like one
with an ague. DoubIet and hose filled
a tumbler three parts with wine
Drink ern AFFORD 9 te b 5eid befa 5 shs
have more of this worlds wine than you
Faith, the Cardinal and the King kept
their secret we'll Not a man OF us
dreamt of Los Perdido and that you
| had Joined the legion of The Lost"
But the talen' cried Pedro Martovalj
the tale"
AS Number Eight answered he kep&
his eyes on his enemy's face.
! Part one is ended" he said.
How? Ended? Call that telling .
tale?" said the gaoler What then Of
Number Eight had waited for the ques-
ton; waited to see the light that could
not be shut out leap into the eyes oppo-
site.
.Ah, the woman? The woman died"
Then after a silence. Died, he repeated
The second use of the word goaded the
other into speech.
How can you know she died?''
Doublet and hose leaned nearer and,
laughing an ugly laugh, said: Because
killed her What else would you have
The man in the cassock bent forward over
the table. his head in his open hands
Presently Number Eight touched him
on the shoulder with short, nervous
You and 1 are left" he said. "and
there is only room for one of us while
the other has a viii 10 kill"
Number Nine lifted his head
Not two for long. Tomorrow settles
that. he answered.
Tomorrow? No. tonight" and Num-
IL ~
For a moment he sat. shaking 1t idly
in his hands. thinking: then ne said:
"A mans honor is still his honor.
though ten years have passed since the
wrong; and if blood be split. he must spill
1t, and not the law. Had We met then we
had staked our lives on the slip of a foot
or sword-thrIst in the lungs; now there
| IS no way but this. NJ life or yours,
Senior Enrico Number Nine, on the besi
of five throws of the dice. Tut, man,
rouse yourself: one or other has little
enough time for dreaming. Master Pedro,
those parchments OF yours: no names, il
You please They run thus, do they not:
'Enrico SO-and-So to the scanoId and En-
rico So-and-So to Gods sunlight and
senior play you which takes whilhv
Death or Liberty. the highest OF five
throws. Begin"
Almost mechanically the other stretch
ed out his hand to the dice-box, then
paused, the box in his fingers.
But" he begin II.
Number Eight bent forward frowning
Are you grown coward in the shad-
oWs of Los Perdido? Or is it that YOU
reckon the chances of the parchments,
Let the chances be; they are equal
enough between the woman-slayer and
the plotter against the King to advance
the Church and save his own soul. Throw,
| say
Stil mechanically the other shook the
table.
"A four and six" cried Doublet and
hose. ''and a brave throw. Now for my
turn: double trays. Well, there's time
to mend yet. Set it down. Master Pedro:
Don Enrico Number Eight. six. Now
senior. fves? and for me but four
and three
BY this time the color had come back
to the cheeks of him of the cassock. and
for the third throw he seized the box
with all the fire of seasoned gamester
long shut out from his pastime shook
dice slowly on the table
Elves again!" he cried; match that.
il you can
wait. senior, wait" said Number
Eight. calmly If vengeance hath bided
its time ten years. 1t can bide ten sec
onds more unhasted. He laughs best who
laughs last. a six and two. Tally. Mas
ter Pedro, Twenty-one to thirty. Truly
the devil fights for his own. Throw.
senior. A break in the luck; a break in
the luck, Five all told; and for me
seven. The dice are against me.
IN MS eAClltineHl tilt man VI tilt cas-
sock had risen.
Il will play no more" he cried. This
is sheer murder. Would you have your
blood as well as her wrong on my soul?
Let the parchmeuts end the business. [
resign my lead: let that square the debt
Number Eight stretched out his hand
to the gaoler.
Give me the parchments. Nay. fool.
they are safe enough. the scafsold
stands not upon sheepskin- The pareh-
ments, l say; so. now. Don Enrico, throw.
Your life or mine on the cast. What.
man. must l strike we on the mouth to
make We throw-seducer and traitor that
We are? Would steal the wife and shirlS
-ha. ace. tray, The box. senior: there's
a God in Heaven yet. He throws. not l.
Taking the dice-box in his left hand
Number Eight reversed it on the table.
holding the dice covered. Then. shaking
out the narchn,eGts;, he glanced at them.
and. handing them back to Pedro Mario
val raised the box.
Skies, by heavens! You are EnTico de
Ramirez. The hour is up. Master Pedro.
Tonight Ii Is / who sleep in Number Nine.
For fifteen hours this gentleman is Num-
her Eight. and after that-nothing
Hamilton Drummond in the Strand Mag
azine.