My lord and I stood forward, each with a bowl in his hand. We looked toward the Governor. “My lord first, as becometh his rank,” he said. My lord stooped and threw, and his bowl went swiftly over the grass, turned, and rested not a hands'-breadth from the jack. I threw. “One is as near as the other!” cried Master Macocke for the judges. A murmur arose from the crowd, and my lord swore beneath his breath. He and I retreated to our several sides, and Rolfe and West took our places. While they and those that followed bowled, the crowd, attentive though it was, still talked and laughed, and laid wagers upon its favorites; but when my lord and I again stood forth, the noise was hushed, and men and women stared with all their eyes. He delivered, and his bowl touched the jack. He straightened himself, with a smile, and I heard Jeremy Sparrow behind me groan; but my bowl too kissed the jack. The crowd began to laugh with sheer delight, but my lord turned red and his brows drew together. We had but one turn more. While we waited, I marked his black eyes studying every inch of the ground between him and that small white ball, to strike which, at that moment, I verily believe he would have given the King's favor. All men pray, though they pray not to the same god. As he stood there, when his time had come, weighing the bowl in his hand, I knew that he prayed to his daemon, fate, star, whatever thing he raised an altar to and bent before. He threw, and I followed, while the throng held its breath. Master Macocke rose to his feet. “It's a tie, my masters!” he exclaimed. The excited crowd surged forward, and a babel of voices arose. “Silence, all!” cried the Governor. “Let them play it out!” My lord threw, and his bowl stopped perilously near the shining mark. As I stepped to my place a low and supplicating “O Lord!” came to my ears from the lips and the heart of the preacher, who had that morning thundered against the toys of this world. I drew back my arm and threw with all my force. A cry arose from the throng, and my lord ground his heel into the earth. The bowl, spurning the jack before it, rushed on, until both buried themselves in the red and yellow leaves that filled the trench. I turned and bowed to my antagonist. “You bowl well, my lord,” I said. “Had you had the forest training of eye and arm, our fortunes might have been reversed.” He looked me up and down. “You are kind, sir,” he said thickly. “'To-day to thee, to-morrow to me.' I give you joy of your petty victory.” He turned squarely from me, and stood with his face downstream. I was speaking to Rolfe and to the few--not even all of that side for which I had won--who pressed around me, when he wheeled. “Your Honor,” he cried to the Governor, who had paused beside Mistress Percy, “is not the Due Return high-pooped? Doth she not carry a blue pennant, and hath she not a gilt siren for figurehead?”