Podatchkine, on whom the powerful soporific with which his cup had been drugged--the sleepy nightshade--had been rapidly taking effect, and whose small cunning eyes had been opening and shutting alternately, while a numbness stole with a weariness over all his faculties, seemed suddenly to grasp at the terrible meaning of the speaker. He gave a start--he essayed to rouse himself and shout, but in doing so, toppled off his stool, and sank on the clay floor in a profound slumber. "At last!" said the half-breed, administering a kick to the prostrate figure; "at last he has gone to sleep; now to make sure that he shall never waken more. Ah! the Asiatic! he was just getting suspicious at the end." "There are two kopecs in his pocket," said the Stepniak, after investigating the garments of the snorting Podatchkine, who was now breathing heavily through his red snub nose, which between his scrubby beard and his shock of hair, was almost the only feature of his face that was visible. "Leave the kopecs where you found them!" said Nicholas, with a gipsy oath. "Wherefore?" asked the Stepniak with surprise. "It will seem all the more honest in thee, my good Stepniak, when you take the body--bodies, I should say--to the nearest military post. You have but to say you found them dead in the forest." "And the wet clothing?" "Dew or rain--what a head you have!" "True--true; ah! what a man you are, Nicholas Paulovitch, so full of bright thoughts! That idea would never have occurred to me." "Nor the other either. Quick, now; we have not a moment to lose!" They extinguished the pine torch, and tying the Corporal's hands securely with a cord, carried him forth to the draw-well before the cottage. Then they substituted that worthy warrior's heels for the bucket which was usually appended to the rope, and permitting the winch to revolve softly and gently, lowered him down, snorting and gasping in his unnatural slumber, head foremost, into the deep dark water below! The Stepniak turned the iron handle of the winch or windlass, while the gipsy guided the rope with its heavy burden. He was deliberately lowered down until only his heels remained above water, as the two wretches could see by the starlight when stooping and peering into the darkness below. The snorting had ceased now! The dying Corporal was heard to struggle with his hands, as if he sought to free them from the cords; a few babbles filled with air rose to the surface and burst. This continued for a minute, during which all was silent elsewhere, save the half-suppressed breathing of the two assassins, and the dreary sound of the night wind, as it shook the dark branches of the giant pines that towered in solemn gloom around them. Nicholas Paulovitch listened intently, and kept his eyes fixed on the cottage where their other victim lay, as he doubted not, sunk in what was intended to be his last sleep.