The man addressed turned his wild staring eyes at him for a moment, as if to answer, and then walked blindly between the sofa and the table, as if to go straight to the wall, reeled and fell, catching at the cloth, which he dragged aside, nearly causing the lamp to go crashing on the floor.
For a few moments the others stood aghast, staring at their prostrate companion, who writhed slightly for a brief period, uttering a curious sound, and then lay upon his back, stretched out motionless.
The younger man was the first to recover himself.
“Help!” he gasped, in a hoarse whisper.
“Hush!” cried his companion; “are you mad?”
He raised his life-preserver threateningly, and the other gazed at him with ghastly face and staring eyes.
“What shall we do?” he whispered.
“Keep your head, and don’t be a fool,” was the reply.
As the bearded man spoke he went down on one knee, thrust his hand into his comrade’s breast, and then rose quickly.
“What is it, Harry—poison?”