" lies insanity ! " I cried in my piping voice I staggered to my feet, dragged my feeble, heavy limbs washhand-stand, and plunged my grey head into basin of cold water Then, towelling myself, I tried again no good beyond all question that indeed Eden, not Elvesham But Eden in Elvesham's body !

Had I been man of age, given myself my fate as one enchanted But sceptical days miracles pass current Here was some trick of psychology What drug and steady stare could do, drug and steady stare, or some similar treatment, could surely undo Men have lost their memories before But to exchange memories as one does umbrellas ! I laughed Alas ! not healthy laugh, but wheezing, senile titter fancied old Elvesham laughing at my plight, and gust of petulant anger, unusual , swept across my feelings I began dressing eagerly clothes lying about floor, and only realised when dressed an evening suit I had assumed I opened the wardrobe and found some more ordinary clothes, pair of plaid trousers, and an old-fashioned dressing-gown I put venerable smoking-cap on my venerable head, and, coughing little from my exertions, tottered out landing

then, perhaps, quarter to six, blinds were closely drawn house quite silent The landing was spacious one, broad, richly-carpeted staircase went down darkness hall below, and before me door ajar showed me writing-desk, revolving bookcase, the back of study chair, and fine array of bound books, shelf upon shelf

"My study," I mumbled, and walked across the landing Then sound voice thought struck me, and I went back bedroom and put set of false teeth They slipped in ease of old, habit "That's better," said I, gnashing them, and so returned study

The drawers writing-desk were locked Its revolving top was also locked I no indications keys, and there were none pockets trousers I shuffled back at once bedroom, and went dress suit, and afterwards the pockets of all the garments find very eager, and one imagined that burglars at work, my room when I had done were there no keys found, but not coin, nor scrap of paper--save only the receipted bill overnight dinner

curious weariness asserted itself I sat down and stared garments flung here and there, their pockets turned inside out My first frenzy had already flickered out Every moment beginning to realise the immense intelligence plans enemy, more and more clearly the hopelessness position With an effort I rose and hurried hobbling study again staircase was housemaid pulling up the blinds She stared, , expression face I shut the door study behind me, and, seizing poker, began an attack desk how they found me The cover desk was split, the lock smashed, the letters torn pigeon-holes, and tossed room In my senile rage I had flung pens and other such light stationery, and overturned the ink Moreover, large vase mantel had got broken-- know how find no cheque-book, no money, no indications slightest use recovery body battering madly drawers, butler, backed by two women-servants, intruded upon me

* * * * *

That simply story change No one will believe my frantic assertions treated as one demented, and even moment under restraint But sane, absolutely sane, and it sat down to write this story minutely things happened I appeal reader, whether any trace of insanity style or method, story he reading young man locked away in an old man's body But the clear fact is incredible to everyone Naturally I appear demented believe this, naturally know the names secretaries, doctors who come me, servants and neighbours, town (wherever ) where myself Naturally I lose myself in my own house, and suffer inconveniences of every sort Naturally I oddest questions Naturally I weep and cry out, paroxysms of despair no money and no cheque-book The bank will not recognise my signature, for I suppose that, allowing feeble muscles I now have, my handwriting is still Eden's These people about me will not let me go bank personally It seems, indeed, no bank town, an account in some part of London It seems that Elvesham kept the name solicitor secret from all his household ascertain nothing Elvesham was, , profound student of mental science, and all my declarations facts case merely confirm the theory that my insanity outcome of overmuch brooding upon psychology Dreams personal identity indeed ! Two healthy youngster, with all life before me; now furious old man, unkempt, and desperate, and miserable, prowling about great, luxurious, strange house, watched, feared, and avoided as lunatic by everyone about me And in London is Elvesham beginning life again in vigorous body, and with all the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of threescore and ten He has stolen my life

What has happened clearly know study are volumes of manuscript notes referring chiefly psychology of memory, and parts of what either calculations or ciphers in symbols absolutely strange In some passages indications that also occupied philosophy of mathematics I take it he has transferred the whole memories, the accumulation that makes up his personality, old withered brain to mine, and, similarly, that he has transferred mine discarded tenement Practically, , he has changed bodies But how such change possible is without the range philosophy materialist for all my thinking life, but here, suddenly, is clear case of man's detachability from matter

One desperate experiment about I sit writing here before putting the matter to issue , help of table-knife that I had secreted at breakfast, I succeeded in breaking open fairly obvious secret drawer wrecked writing-desk I discovered nothing save little green glass phial containing white powder Round the neck phial was label, and thereon was written word, "_Release " --is most probably--poison understand Elvesham placing poison in my way, and sure his intention so rid only living witness against him, were it not careful concealment The man has practically solved the problem of immortality Save spite of chance, live in my body until it has aged, and then, again, throwing that aside, assume some other victim's youth and strength When one remembers his heartlessness, terrible ever-growing experience that . How long has he been leaping from body to body ? . But I tire of writing The powder appears soluble in water The taste unpleasant

* * * * *

There the narrative found upon Mr Elvesham's desk ends His dead body lay desk chair The latter pushed back, probably by his last convulsions The story was written in pencil and in crazy hand, quite unlike his usual minute characters There remain only two curious facts to record Indisputably some connection between Eden and Elvesham, whole of Elvesham's property was bequeathed young man But he never inherited When Elvesham committed suicide, Eden was, strangely enough, already dead Twenty-four hours before, he knocked down by cab and killed instantly, crowded crossing intersection of Gower Street and Euston Road So only human being who thrown light fantastic narrative is beyond the reach of questions Without further comment I leave this extraordinary matter reader's individual judgment