"What have you got to say? Be quick about it, I want to go."
"Sit down and have a drink. It'll pull you together."
"Not here, thank you. I don't want to be poisoned."
"I didn't think of that. It's rather a good idea. I will poison you." He must be punished for that insult. I went into my bedroom and came back with a pinch of salt in a screw of paper which I opened out before him. Then I poured out his drink, put the salt into it, stirred it carefully till it had dissolved, pushed the glass across the table, and placed a chair close to the spot. "Now sit down and drink that."
"I'll see you to the devil first," he cried, trying to bluster and turning as white as a sheet.
I promptly took him by the collar of his coat and forced him into the chair and ordered him to drain the glass. His panic was pitiful. He was such a blithering ass that he never suspected I was only fooling; and was convinced I meant to kill him. The sweat of abject terror stood in beads on his forehead, he couldn't utter a word, and sat staring up at me like a paralyzed idiot.
"Drink it!" I thundered in his own bullying tones which made him jump and twitch convulsively. He made one feeble attempt to lift the glass, and then with a moan dropped back in his chair in a faint.
I was afraid at first that he was really dead; but his pulse was beating all right. It was probably just pretence; so I moved the glass out of his reach and left him to come round when he pleased. It was merely shamming, and when he thought I was far enough away, he made a grab to upset the glass.
"I think you're the biggest fool I ever met, von Erstein, but you've been punished enough for your little poison suggestion. Look here;" and I swallowed the "poison" myself. "Not enough salt even to alter the taste of it, man."
In a minute he was cursing quite as cheerfully as usual and looking just as amiable. "Well, can I go now?" he asked.