LITMIR.BIZ

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himself? The farce of the cream tarts began look like a tragedy.

      “Why, is this not odd,” said Geraldine, “that we three fellows met by the merest accident in so large a wilderness as London? And we are so nearly in the same condition!”

      “How?” cried the young man. “Are you, too, ruined? Is this supper a folly like my cream tarts? Has the devil brought three of his own together for a last party?”

      “The devil can sometimes do a very gentlemanly thing,” returned Prince Florizel; “and I am so much touched by this coincidence that, although we are not entirely in the same case, I am going to put an end to the inequality. Your heroic treatment of the last cream tarts will be my example.”

      The Prince drew out his purse and took from it a small bundle of bank-notes.

      “You see, I was a week or so behind you, but I want to catch you up[7],” he continued. “This,” laying one of the notes upon the table, “will suffice for the bill. As for the rest…”

      He tossed them into the fire, and they went up the chimney in a blaze.

      The young man tried to catch his arm, but as the table was between them his move came too late.

      “Unhappy man,” he cried, “why have you burned our money? You will need forty pounds.”

      “Forty pounds!” repeated the Prince. “Why forty pounds?”

      “Why not eighty?” cried the Colonel;

      “It was only forty pounds he needed,” said the young man gloomily. “But without them there is no admission. The rule is strict. Forty pounds for each. Accursed life, where a man cannot even die without money!”

      The Prince and the Colonel exchanged glances.

      “Explain yourself,” said the latter. “I have still some money. But I must know: you must certainly tell us what you mean.”

      The young awoke: he looked uneasily from one to the other, and his face flushed deeply.

      “You are not fooling me?” he asked. “You are indeed ruined men like me?”

      “Indeed, I am for sure,” replied the Colonel.

      “And I,” said the Prince, “I have given you proof. Who but a ruined man will throw his money into the fire? The action speaks for itself.”

      “A ruined man, yes,” returned the other suspiciously, “or else a millionaire.”

      “Enough, sir,” said the Prince; “I have said so, and no doubt.”

      “Ruined?” said the young man. “Are you ruined, like me? Are you, after a life of indulgence, indeed ruined? Can you only indulge yourself in one thing more? Are you going to give yourselves that last indulgence? Are you going to avoid the consequences of your folly by the one infallible and easy path? Are you going to run away from the sheriff's officers[8] through one open door?”

      Suddenly he stopped and attempted to laugh.

      “Here is your health![9]” he cried and emptied his glass, “and good-night to you, my merry ruined men.”

      Colonel Geraldine caught him by the arm as he was about to rise.

      “You don't trust us,” he said, “and you are wrong. To all your questions I make answer in the affirmative. But I am not so timid, and can speak English plainly. We too, like yourself, have had enough of life, and are determined to die. Sooner or later, alone or together, we will seek death. Since we have met you, and your case is more pressing, let it be tonight-and at once-and all three together. Such a penniless trio must go arm-in-arm into the halls of Pluto!”

      The Prince was disturbed, and looked at his confidant with a shade of doubt. As for the young man, the flush came back darkly into his cheek, and his eyes threw out a spark of light.

      “You are the men for me!” he cried, with an almost terrible excitement. “Shake hands upon the bargain!” (his hand was cold and wet). “You little know in what a company you will begin the march! You little know in what a happy moment for yourselves you partook of my cream tarts! I am only a soldier, but I am a soldier in an army. I know Death's private door. I am Death's friend, and can show you the way into eternity without ceremony and without scandal.”

      They called upon him eagerly to explain his meaning.

      “Can you have eighty pounds?” he demanded.

      Geraldine ostentatiously consulted his pocket-book, and replied in the affirmative.

      “Fortunate beings!” cried the young man. “Forty pounds is the entry-money[10] of the Suicide Club.”

      “The Suicide Club,” said the Prince, “why, what the devil is that?”

      “Listen,” said the young man; “this is the age of conveniences, and I will tell you of the last convenience. We have affairs in different places; and hence railways were invented. Railways separated us from our friends. So telegraphs were made to communicate speedily at great distances. Even in hotels we have lifts to spare us a climb of some hundred steps. Now, we know that life is only a stage to play the fool[11] upon as long as it amuses us. But what about one more important convenience? A decent, easy way to quit that stage; the back stairs to liberty; or, as I said this moment, Death's private door. This, my two fellow-rebels, is supplied by the Suicide Club. Do not suppose that you and I are alone, or even exceptional, in this highly reasonable desire. A large number of our fellowmen, who have grown heartily sick of the performance in which they are expected to join daily, and all their lives long! But some have families who will be shocked, or even blamed, if the matter became public. Others have a weakness at heart and recoil from the circumstances of death. That is, to some extent, my own experience. I cannot put a pistol to my head and draw the trigger; for something stronger than myself withholds the act. Although I hate life, I have not strength enough in my body to take hold of death. For such as I, and for all who desire to be out of the coil without a scandal, the Suicide Club has been created. How it works, what is its history, I am myself uninformed. What I know of its constitution, but I can't tell you. To this extent, however, I am at your service. If you are truly tired of life, I will introduce you tonight to a meeting. If not tonight, at least some time within the week, you will be easily relieved of your existences. It is now eleven. By half-past, at latest, we must leave this place; so that you have half an hour before you to consider my proposal. It is more serious than a cream tart,” he added, with a smile; “and I suspect more delicious.”

      “More serious, certainly,” returned Colonel Geraldine; “and as it is so much more so, will you allow me five minutes' speech in private with my friend Mr. Godall?”

      “Of course,” answered the young man. “And I will retire.”

      “You are very kind,” said the Colonel.

      As soon as the two were alone, Prince Florizel said,

      “What is the use of this chatter, Geraldine? I see you are anxious, whereas my mind is very still. I want to see the end of this.”

      “Your Highness,” said the Colonel, turning pale; “let me ask you to consider the importance of your life, not only to your friends, but to the public interest. 'If not tonight,' said this madman; but if tonight some irreparable disaster overtakes your Highness's person, what, let me ask you, what will be my despair, and the concern and disaster of a great nation?”

      “I want to see the end of this,” repeated the Prince; “and have the kindness, Colonel Geraldine, to remember and respect your word of honour as a gentleman. Under no circumstances, recollect, nor without my special authority, you can betray the incognito under which I choose to go abroad. These were my commands, which I now repeat. And now,” he added, “let me ask you to call for the bill.”

      Colonel Geraldine bowed in submission; but he had a very white face as he called the waiter. The Prince

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