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 There came a swift ball, but quicker than the ball was the downward flash of the great black arms and the glitter of the bat. It was a fearful swing but at the same instant there came a cry from the wicket keeper which was echoed by the umpire and Dessalines was out.

A babel of voices arose; from everywhere among the spectators the same question was being asked and answered.

"What! Why?" cried Virginia wildly. "What did he say? What does L. B. W. mean? "

"Leg before wicket," almost sobbed the man beside her. "I couldn't see it. By George, it's all up with them now, I'm afraid."

Virginia watched the innings which followed in the silence of utter despondency, repressing the inclination to cry. It seemed to her, as indeed it did to every one else, that Giles and his team had not only been outplayed but pursued by some malign, occult influence. When in the course of time Giles again went to the bat she watched him with dumb inertia.

This time, however, it appeared that Giles had come to stay. The fighting blood of the Anglo-Saxon which pulses the strongest in defeat, just as that of the Latin gains strength in victory, had risen to confront the situation and before long hope began to creep back into the hearts of the Gentlemen's sympathizers. Then the other man went out and Dessalines stepped forward; his smile was lacking this time, and the black face wore an expression which silenced the spectators.

With Dessalines and Giles the real strife began. Upward, steadily upward, hit after hit, and run after run, the plucky Englishman and his great black colleague 46