Life Hanging by a . . . Feather?

William studied the board thoughtfully, then studied Brian. Brian waited for the explosion. It didn't come.

"You know," murmured William thoughtfully, "I thought that you were annoying but intelligent. I thought that, having proven that I had more brains than you, you might be willing to help me in return for my friendship and a share of power.

"I see now that I was wrong.

"Perhaps you have brains, but you certainly don't have any sense, and it is quite clear that you are going to keep trying to belatedly prove that you are my equal. This is getting rather annoying.

"You think you can cross me with impunity, just because you are here at my invitation. You are mistaken. Quite mistaken."

Brian looked at William's calm, even meditative, face; at his chilly blue eyes. And tried to surreptitiously look around for a way out of the room.

Now William smiled.

"Ah, at last you realize that I'm not to be toyed with. Well, I'm sorry my dear Brian. It is too late.

"However, I am not an unfair man. Your well being hangs in the balance, but I will let you tip the scales.

"So tell me, which would you rather use in an attempt to lift your life from the abyss: a pound of feathers or a pound of gold?"

Brian stared at him. "Pardon?"

"You heard me!" for a moment William's precarious cool cracked, but then the mask pulled back into place. "Would you rather have a pound of feathers or a pound of gold balancing your life? Assuming that whatever is under you is something . . . unfortunate. You would want the heavier one, yes? So which will it be? If you pick the right one, I will merely give you a bit of a lesson. If you prove to be an intellectual featherweight . . . hee hee . . . then I fear that this choice may be your last.

"Unless you have some exceptional tawny port with which to buy me off. I'm rather partial to the stuff, and my recent supply has dried up . . . ."

Brian continued to stare at William as he rambled, trying to figure out what to say. There was quite obviously a catch of some sort. It was a trick question, but had to have enough basis to satisfy whatever sense of honor and fair play remained to William.

Which should he choose? The feathers or the gold?

Solution