and rambling in his gait, with shaggy side whiskers, a bald top to
his head, and a veiled grey eye, which now and then emitted a
twinkle. His mouth, which embraced a large cigar, he kept
continually screwing round and round and from side to side, as he
looked sagaciously and coldly at the strangers. He was dressed in
light tweeds, with his neck very open in a striped shirt collar;
and carried a minute book under one arm.

"Good evening," said he, after he had closed the door behind him.
"I am told you wish to speak with me."

"We have a desire, sir, to join the Suicide Club," replied the
Colonel.

The President rolled his cigar about in his mouth. "What is that?"
he said abruptly.

"Pardon me," returned the Colonel, "but I believe you are the
person best qualified to give us information on that point."

"I?" cried the President. "A Suicide Club? Come, come! this is a
frolic for All Fools' Day. I can make allowances for gentlemen who
get merry in their liquor; but let there be an end to this."

"Call your Club what you will," said the Colonel, "you have some
company behind these doors, and we insist on joining it."

"Sir," returned the President curtly, "you have made a mistake.
This is a private house, and you must leave it instantly."