"My chance is worthless," said the man.
"Worthless!" muttered Pike to himself. "Aye, you are indeed worthless, compared with some of the English villains I have hunted down and fought for life or death. I could die like a man if I only had to die in a fair hand-to-hand fight with such a man as Birmingham Bill, the very first murderer I ever coped with; but I'll show them how an Englishman can die."
"Double six!" shouted one of the brigands, as he threw the dice.
The man was the smallest and ugliest of the lot, but it seemed very probable that he would be Pike's executioner. At all events, he carefully loaded his carbine.
"To be shot by such a villain as that!" thought Pike. "It would have been better if one of the shots fired by that burglar fellow they call the 'Whitechapel, Devil' had taken effect; six times he fired, and then we had a good ten minutes' tussle before I could secure him."
At length all the brigands had thrown with the exception of Toro.
"Double six again!"
As it was a tie between the two, each had another throw. The little ugly brigand threw.
"Two—three."
Toro then took up the dice, shook them well in the box and made his cast.