He groaned within himself; he too would have to make his 'flight into Egypt,' There was nothing left in the dear old beloved manor house that would furnish sufficient capital for another gamble. 'The last family heirloom,' he said finally, 'departed in my father's time. The manor goes in mine.' There was a space of silence. Then the elder threw out a fresh suggestion. 'There's maybe something ye've left out of your calculation,' he said suggestively, 'something that some might put as high as the estate itself.' 'What d' ye mean?' inquired the other, turning about so as fully to see the other's face. 'Well, as 'twixt friends and neighbours I'll speak out fairly,' responded the man at the green table, 'and as I'm your guest you'll understand I'm perfectly straight in my proposition. The long and short o't then is that I'm settled in this new place of mine next yours; that it is time for me to "range myself," and that if you'll give me your daughter's hand--give me leave, that is, to propose for her hand in marriage, and she does me the honour of accepting--well then, I'll settle your manor, or what's left of it, on her and her heirs for ever. Make a dower-house of it, in fact. And more than this, I'll burn all your I.O.U.'s in addition. You'll be a free man once again.' His host started violently, gave a sudden haughty and contemptuous look at the speaker, made as if he would speak, then turned swiftly back to the fire again. He had a fierce desire to kick this vile newcomer--this Mosenthal, 'the foreigner,' or 'ootner'--the son of a rich Jewish Manchester tradesman--out of the house, but the fellow was his guest, and he checked himself. Above all, he dreaded public bankruptcy; he, the last male descendant of the proud race of Heronsbeck. 'Think it over,' said the other quietly. 'I think 'tis a fair offer--free to take or free to drop.' Still his host made no reply. The other after a little pause proceeded with his tempting proposals. He had reached out his hand for the dice-box on the table; he took it up and rattled the dice in the box as if to throw on to the table. 'Come,' he cried vivaciously. 'Have a throw! Let luck decide. I'll back your throw against mine. A hundred pounds to a penny.' He rattled the dice noisily, and cast them on the table, still holding the box tight over the ivory cubes. The tempter prevailed; he had re-aroused the gambling fever in his host, who now advanced to the table and looked irresolutely on the upturned box. 'Done!' he cried suddenly. The other's fist lifted up; the cubes nestled close together showing dots two and one. 'Luck's turned,' said his guest philosophically, as he laid down the notes. The other flung the dice swiftly on to the green board; the cubes rolled apart, then as they settled they showed six and five.