Minetti stretched himself out and yawned. “Accomplishing the thing without any weapon save the mind.”
Fernet picked up the coffee-pot and laughed. “Why, my dear fellow, it is too absurd! The thing cannot be done. You see I am laughing at you again, but no matter.”
“No, as you say, it is no matter. You can die only once.”
Fernet’s laughter stopped instantly. He went on with his preparation for coffee. Minetti changed the subject.
It turned out that there was no sugar in the cracked bowl. Fernet was putting on his hat to go out for some, when the hunchback stopped him.
“Sugar will not be necessary,” he said. And as he spoke he drew a vial from his vest pocket and laid it upon the table beside the cups. “You know what these are, of course.”
“Saccharine pellets?” inquired Fernet as he threw aside his hat.
Minetti replied with a grunt. Fernet poured out the coffee, set a spoon in each saucer, laid three French rolls upon a blue plate. Then he sat down.
“Permit me!” said Minetti, reaching for the vial and rolling a tiny pellet into his palm.
Fernet held up his cup; the hunchback dropped the pellet into it. Then he corked the vial tightly and laid it aside.