4x-xx-xx ep68 The Pistol Shot

The fistel shot. Listen, the bells, they told the last requiem of Count Peter Markoff upon a still, wintry, muskle air. This is the end of a brave and loyal man. Soon the body will be carried down the chirps steps and into the black hearse. The funeral procession will

wind itself through the dark, quiet, snow-covered streets for the cemetery reserved for the officers of his magisties, her sars. I shall wait here in front of the church until they carry the coffin out. I shall follow in the funeral procession and watch with bare head while they lower the body into the grave.

Yes, this is the least that I Captain Nikolai Silvio could do. That's for all. Markov was my friend. Yes, my very good friend. We were always together as we were five years ago on that night when...

How nickel are they? This is a night to celebrate. The Serena has achieved another birthday. The Serena's birthday! Come my friend, another trick. No, no, Peter, I've had enough. Oh, nonsense, nonsense. Stefan! Where is that pig of a steward?

Step on! Yes, yes, come up. Well, vodka for Captain Silvio. See that his glass is never empty. Yes, excellent. Ah, computer. We'll drink to the health of India's sonovich. Yes, I'll drink to that, Peter.

Until the cup is empty. Away with the glasses, my friend. Fresh glasses. Oh, vodka. This is a night to remember. Yes, excellent. Peter and Peter have had enough and you've had too much. I ate too much vodka. Oh, my poorie, you know me better than that.

I still say you've had too much. Your hand trembled when you raised that last glass. I'll prove to you that I'm not drunk, my friend. Oh. Do you see that moth crawling along on the opposite wall?