"These are harsh words, sir," replied the knight, calmly; "but let them
pass. We will play first, and fight afterwards. But you refuse my
challenge ?"

"It is false!" replied Disbrowe, fiercely, "I accept it." And producing
a key, he threw it on the table. "My life is, in truth, set on the die,"
he added, with a desperate look--"for if I lose, I will not survive my
shame."

"You will not forget our terms," observed Parravicin. "I am to be your
representative to-night. You can return home to-morrow."

"Throw, sir--throw," cried the young man, fiercely.

"Pardon, me," replied the knight; "the first cast is with you. A single
main decides it."

"Be it so," returned Disbrowe, seizing the box. And as he shook the dice
with a frenzied air, the major and Lydyard drew near the table, and even
Wyvil roused himself to watch the result.

"Twelve!" cried Disbrowe, as he removed the box. "My honour is saved! My
fortune retrieved--Huzza!"

"Not so fast," returned Parravicin, shaking the box in his turn. "You
were a little too hasty," he added, uncovering the dice. "I am twelve,
too. We must throw again."

"This to decide," cried the young officer, again rattling the dice.
"Six!"