"Two even throws, and you are free." The man fumbled a little and then cast.

It fell a four.
A second time he threw, and the dice lay five.
In that wild place, in the black heart of night, the terror of the thing fell on my soul.

The savage faces, the deadly purpose in Ringan's eyes, the fumbling miscreant before him, were all heavy with horror.

I had no doubt that Cosh was worthy of death, but this cold and merciless treatment froze my reason.

I watched with starting eyes the last throw, and I could not hear Ringan declare it.