“Nor I” added Dr. O’Hagan and Mr. Jarnville in a breath. Then there was silence for the space of half an hour or more.

Mr. Crutter then remarked: “Do you know, I find this to be rather a pleasant experience, sailing along here through the ether, calmly, far above the distractions of the world? If I were not so miserable I think I should really enjoy it!”

“I am too unhappy to enjoy anything,” said Miss Dermott; but this, I confess, is not unpleasant.”

“Pleasant enough,” remarked Mr. Winden, “if a man had no anguish in his soul.”

“I had no idea that there was so much exhilaration in the upper regions of the atmosphere,” said Dr. O’Hagan, rather cheerily.

“I think I feel better, myself,” said Mr. Jarnville.

“It is very strange,” observed Mr. Crutter, addressing Miss Dermott, “that young people, like you and Mr. Winden here, should be weary of life. That an old man like me should long for death is comprehensible. But why do you wish to die?”

Neither Mr. Winden nor Miss Dermott made any response.

“I’ll tell you,” said Dr. O’Hagan, throwing a bag of ballast overboard, to check the descent of the balloon. “We are all going to destruction together; and why should we not, as companions in misery, unfold our griefs to each other?”

“It would be very proper, I think,” said Mr. Crutter; “and I will begin if the rest will consent to follow.”

The other four travellers agreed to do so.

“Well, I haven’t much to tell,” said Mr. Crutter. “The fact is, I have always had plenty of money with which to live in idleness and luxury, and I have so lived. I have tried every kind of pleasure life can afford and money buy, and I have reached a condition of satiety. Moreover, I have ruined my digestion, and I am now a sufferer from chronic dyspepsia of a horrible kind. This makes existence a burden. I am eager to quit it. That is the whole story.”

“How strange the difference between us!” said Dr. O’Hagan. “I have been deeply engaged in the practice of my profession for many years; and I am utterly worn-out and broken-down with overwork. I am nervous, exhausted, irritable, and wretched, but I have lost my savings in a speculative venture, and cannot rest. I must either work or die.”

“That is partly my case,” said Miss Dermott. “I am friendless and poor. I cannot earn enough by sewing to buy sufficient food, and I can no longer face the misery that I have endured for so many years. I prefer death a thousand times.”

“And I,” said Mr. Jarnville, “am a disappointed inventor. I have for years laboured upon the construction of a smoke-consumer, but now that it is done, I have not money enough to pay for a patent; and I am starving. After trying everywhere to obtain assistance, I have resolved to give up the struggle and to find refuge in the grave.”

Mr. Winden cleared his throat once or twice before beginning his story. He seemed to labour under some embarrassment. “The truth is,” he said, “I was rejected last night by a young lady whom I love, and I made up my mind that life without her would not be worth having.”