The brigands were some sleeping, some playing cards, and all enjoying
themselves in some way, but no one took any notice of the prisoner.

The sun rode high in the heavens, and it was evidently approaching
noon, when the messenger returned from the town with a letter.

It was addressed to Pike, but Toro opened it.

It was not from Harkaway, but from the chief of the police, informing
the unfortunate detective that the Greek government declined to make
any terms or drive any bargain with brigands, but that any ill usage
Mr. Pike might suffer would be most effectually avenged.

"You hear this?" said Toro.

"I do."

"Then say what prayers you remember, and make your peace with Heaven,
for at noon you die."

"Let me be the executioner," said a brigand who stood by.

"Not so," exclaimed another; "the task is mine by right."

"Peace!" said Toro. "The dice shall decide his fate. The highest
thrower shall have the pleasure of shooting him."

The brigands, in obedience to a signal from the chief, gathered round
him, a short distance from the prisoner.