I advanced and held out my hand.
"'Whoever you are,' I said, 'you speak like a true man.

But you are ignorant of the causes which compelled me to---' and a hard sob choked my utterance.

My new acquaintance pressed my proffered hand cordially, but the gravity of his tone did not vary as he replied: "'There is no cause, my friend, which compels us to take violent leave of existence, unless it be madness or cowardice.' "'Aye, and what if it were madness ?' I asked him eagerly.

He scanned me attentively, and laying his fingers lightly on my wrist, felt my pulse.
"'Pooh, my dear sir!' he said; 'you are no more mad than I am.

You are a little overwrought and excited--that I admit.