'Slife, we'll make a night of it." He drew a ring from his finger, and with a superb gesture of disdain pushed it across the board.
"What'll ye stake ?" And, in the same breath, "Boy, another stoup," he cried.
Crispin eyed the gem carelessly.
"Twenty Caroluses," he muttered.
"Rat me, sir, that nose of yours proclaims you a jew, without more.

Say twenty-five, and I'll cast." With a tolerant smile, and the shrug of a man to whom twenty-five or a hundred are of like account, Crispin consented.

They threw; Crispin passed and won.
"What'll ye stake ?" cried Mr.Foster, and a second ring followed the first.
Before Crispin could reply, the door leading to the interior of the inn was flung open, and Mrs.Quinn, breathless with exertion and excitement, came scurrying across the room.

In the doorway stood the host in hesitancy and fear.

Bending to Crispin's ear, Mrs.Quinn delivered her message in a whisper that was heard by most of those who were about.
"Gone!" cried Crispin in consternation.
The woman pointed to her husband, and Crispin, understanding from this that she referred him to the host, called to him.
"What know you, landlord ?" he shouted.