myself to perform the operation simultaneously:
each to project his mind upon that of the other,
and not to rest until we have literally exchanged
ideas—I mean outward ideas—bodies.

"Has Mr. Stedburn consented to make the
attempt?" I inquired.

"He has. And we intend to try it very
soon. I do not, however, conceal from myself
that the experiment is fraught with some risk,
since we may have largely to increase the dose
of hatchis. Now, having no near relations of
any kind, I have resolved to execute a document,
leaving my whole property to Mark Stedburn
before we begin the experiment. And to
prevent any difficulty, in the event of my decease,
arising from ignorant persons who might
stupidly attribute it to suicide (for it might
look like it), I intend to execute an unconditional
deed of gift, instead of a will. If you
would act as trustee under this deed I should
feel obliged."

Just then the great bell rang, and Mark came
in: to my infinite relief.

"Well," he said, " has Mr. Volt told you of
his grand discovery?"

"Oh, yes," I returned.

"What do you think of it?"

"I don't know what to think," I replied,
raising my eyebrows to imply that I didn't know
what to say about it in Mr. Volt's presence.

"You see," said Mark to Mr. Volt, "our
friend's mind cannot quite grasp a new and
powerful truth all at once. When he has tested
it by experience, he will be wiser."

"No doubt," he assented.

Was Mark a believer, too? And were they
both mad? As I looked at the two men
together: Mr. Volt, plump and full-faced:
Mark, thin and pale: it occurred to me that
by deluding him into dreamy and speculative
studies, Mr. Volt had sucked the life and health
out of my friend as if he had been a vampire.

"This is the hatchis," said Mark, bringing
me the box again. " Shall he try it, Mr.
Volt?"

"Yes, if he will: though its effect, alone,
without previous preparation of the body and
without the violet vapour, can only be feeble."

I deprecated any trial of the sort.

"Try it," Mark insisted; "I give you my
word as a medical man, and as your friend,
that I have taken it myself, and that you shal
feel no ill-effects from it. I promise that you
shall not remain more than ten minutes under
its influence. Take the dose Mr. Volt will give
you. It is now ten minutes to nine. You shall
leave the tower with me at nine punctually."

I consented. Mr. Volt brought a tiny
thin spoon, and with it took out a portion of
the hatchis, about as big as a hazel nut.

"Now," said he, " during the time you are
under the influence of this paste, you will have
certain experiences. Decide whether they shall
be real or ideal. Real, in the sense of a succession
of persistently coherent ideas independent
of your own will (for I think I can so far
project my mind upon yours as to insure that),
or ideal, in the sense of a succession of ideas
directed by your own will."

I replied that as I could at any time obtain a
succession of ideas directed by my own will, I
would elect a succession of ideas produced by
his will.

Having seated me on the sofa, he gave me
the spoonful of hatchis, looking steadily into
my eyes as he did so.

I felt that his eyes hurt me somewhere in my
head—I can't tell where—and looking at his legs
I saw them grow large, and long, and zig-zaggy,
till they flashed away up in the ceiling, and I
felt a kind of veil-like misty rain let down before
my eyes. I seemed to grow up out of this veil,
or through it, and to gaze on the pure blue
night sky and the sparkling stars, until quickly
I was near them. They loomed, shining, on
me, as huge full-orbed planets, and I could
hear the whirr and rush they made, as they
wheeled past me round their awful orbits until
they grew distant and small, and faded into
twinkling stars again. Then, looking down, I
saw the earth spread out like a dark curtain
beneath me, and I heard it yield two great
notes like notes of a huge organ: one, harsh
and discordant, from the cities that blazed up, a
mass of flame and lurid smoke into the peaceful
sky—the cry of trouble and unrest: the other,
like the quiet murmur of the forest in the night
winds. These two went up together to the
stars and blended into music. Then I felt a
cramping sensation and became oppressed, and,
gradually recovering, found myself with Mr.
Volt and Mark. I went home with Mark,
and supped, and I went to bed and slept it off,
and next morning returned to London, and fell
into my humdrum life again.

I cannot tell how long afterwards it may have
been, but as nearly as I can calculate it must
have been at least two months, when I received
a letter from Mark, announcing the death of
Mr. Volt. The letter stated that, in attempting
to carry out their intention of effecting an
exchange of bodies, his eccentric friend had unfortunately
made a mistake in his dose, which
had proved fatal.

I went down to Firworth immediately. The
first thing that struck me was the alteration in
Mark's appearance. He had become unaccountably
plump and sleek, and seemed wonderfully
to have improved in health during the past few
weeks. Another thing occurred to me as odd,
and this gave me pain. Mark appeared strangely
anxious to convince me that Mr. Volt was really
dead, and not in a long trance produced by
"hatchis." Notwithstanding my repugnance,
he insisted on taking me to see his friend's body,
that I might be assured of the fact. There could
be no doubt whatever that Mr. Volt was dead,
nor was there any doubt of the fact that he
had not come to his death by an overdose of
the " hatchis," for the body gave out a most
powerful and unmistakable odour of opium.
Now, it being the character of that drug to
dissipate itself immediately in the system, even
when taken to the extent of an ordinary poisoning
dose, so thoroughly that it is next to impossible