"A cup of poison, and drawing lots for it—that would be best."
"Not bad; but it leaves corpse-marks on the face."
"I've a better plan. Here is strong drink before us; let us drink each other down."
"And then?"
"Then, whichever of us keeps sober shall do for the other. Here is a long nail and a hammer. If it be driven well into the skull, none will be a penny the wiser."
"True, especially in your case, who have such thick hair; but I have a moon on the top of my head."
"Never fear. I'll make a good job of it."
I'm bound to confess that a cold shiver ran through me as I listened to this conversation. Even if I wanted to escape there was no means of escaping, for they sat right in front of the door opposite which I had drawn the chair and the sofa.
Then they both began drinking out of the same cup, first one and then the other. They filled it up for each other from the cognac flask right up to the brim, so that the liquid flowed over the edge of the cup.
"Your health, my brother!"