Now I understand that Magnus was merciful in his own way and was intentionally submerging me slowly into darkness. But at that time I did not realize this and slowly stifling, my breath gradually dying, I lost consciousness. And when with Magnus’ last words the light fled from me and impenetrable night enveloped my being, I whipped out my revolver and fired at Magnus several times in succession. I do not know how many shots I fired. I remember only a series of laughing, flickering flames and the movements of my hand, pushing the weapon forward. I cannot remember at all how and when his aides rushed in and disarmed me. When I regained my senses this was the picture I saw: the aides were gone. I was sitting deep in my chair before the dark fireplace, my hair was wet, while above my left eyebrow there was a bandage soaked in blood. My collar was gone and my shirt was torn, my left sleeve was almost entirely torn off, so that I had to keep jerking it up constantly. Maria stood on the same spot, in the same pose, as if she had not moved at all during the struggle. I was surprised to see Toppi, who sat in a corner and gazed at me strangely. At the table, with his back to me, stood Magnus. He was pouring out some wine for himself.
When I heaved a particularly deep sigh, Magnus turned quickly and said in a strangely familiar tone:
“Do you want some wine, Wondergood? You may have a glass now. Here, drink.... You see you failed to hit me. I do not know whether to be glad or not, but I am alive. To your health, old man!”
I touched my brow with my finger and mumbled:
“Blood....”
“A mere trifle, just a little scratch. It won’t matter. Don’t touch it.”
“It smells.”
“With powder? Yes, that’ll soon pass, too. Toppi is here. Do you see him? He asked permission to stay here. You won’t object if your secretary remains while we continue our conversation? He is extremely devoted to you.”
I looked at Toppi and smiled. Toppi made a grimace and sighed gently:
“Mr. Wondergood! It is I, your Toppi.”