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. The glasses used for this are not large; they are quite small - and that is the deceptive part of the danger.
The Captain had a glass like it in his hand. He looked me in the eye and said, 'To our hero! Skaal!' - threw his head back and tossed it down.
There were echoes of 'Skaal!' all around the table and everyone seemed to gulp it down just like the Captain.
So I did. I could say that being guest of honor laid certain obligations on me -'When in Rome' and all that. But the truth is I did not have the requisite strength of character to refuse. I told myself, 'One tiny glass can't hurt,' and gulped it down.
No trouble. It went down smoothly. One pleasant ice-cold swallow, then a spicy aftertaste with a hint of licorice. I did not know what I was drinking but I was not sure that it was alcoholic. It seemed not to be.
We sat down and somebody put food in front of me and the Captain's steward poured another glass of schnapps for me. I was about to start nibbling the food, Danish hors d'oeuvres and delicious - smorgasbord tidbits - when someone put a hand on my shoulder.
I looked up. The Well-Traveled Man -
With him were the Authority and the Skeptic.
Not the same names. Whoever (Whatever?) was playing games with my life had not gone that far. 'Gerald Fortescue' was now 'Jeremy Forsyth', for example. But despite slight differences I had no trouble recognizing each of them and their new names were close enough to show that someone, or something, was continuing the joke
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