“No, thank you,” answered Hardy drily, thinking the ghastly joke was being carried too far; “life has still a few attractions.”
“Oh, as you will,” replied the Prince carelessly. “Then I must drink alone,” and he emptied the glass.
“But you are missing something choice,” he continued, wiping his lips. “That wine has been in my cellars for fifty years. The stuff our late friend sent is safely locked away for analysis, together with a poisoned dagger and an infernal machine, both of which, I believe, I owe to him or his followers. If you were coroner in this case, what would your verdict be—death from a guilty conscience, supplemented by a vivid imagination? Come, I believe it’s my first deal this evening.”