“Wilson turned round with a look of intelligence on hearing this.
“‘Ha!’ he exclaimed, ‘I see what you’re up to; but I don’t half like it. In the first place, his friends would be terribly cut up if they heard of it; and then I’ve no sort of aptitude for the work of a resurrectionist; and then, if it got wind, we should never hear the last of it; and then—’
“‘And then,’ interrupted the doctor, ‘it would be adding to the light of medical science, you unaspiring monster.’
“‘A light,’ retorted Wilson, ‘which, in passing through some members of the medical profession, is totally absorbed, and reproduced in the shape of impenetrable darkness.’
“‘Now, don’t object, my dear fellow; you know you’re going to do it, so don’t coquette with me, but agree at once.’
“‘Well, I consent, upon one condition.’
“‘And what is that?’
“‘That you do not play any practical jokes on me with the head when you have got it.’
“‘Agreed!’ cried the doctor, laughing; ‘I give you my word of honour. Now he has been buried three days already, so we must set about it at once. Fortunately the graveyard is composed of a sandy soil, so he’ll keep for some time yet.’
“The two worthies then entered into a deep consultation as to how they were to set about this deed of darkness. It was arranged that Wilson should take his gun and sally forth a little before dark, as if he were bent on an hour’s sport, and, not forgetting his game-bag, proceed to the graveyard, where the doctor engaged to meet him with a couple of spades and a dark lantern. Accordingly, next evening, Mr Wilson, true to his promise, shouldered his gun and sallied forth.