“My brother and I are orphans, and were brought up to the medical profession by an old uncle, very rich, very eccentric, and with an excessive fondness for money, which has gone on increasing rapidly with every successive year of his life. We are twin brothers; we were educated together, we passed through our professional studies at the same time, and a short time ago we lived near each other in London, neither of us having any fixed idea of where we should ultimately settle. Shortly before we came here, my brother got married, and at about the same time he got into debt. He had taken a number of shares in a speculation which has since proved a success; but before that happy time, a bank, in which he had deposited his money, broke: he lost all, and, being unable to pay up the calls, his shares in the speculation referred to were also forfeited. These disasters threw him deeply into debt; and our uncle, who was most obstinate when he had once made up his mind, and absolutely miserly in some matters, not only refused to assist him, but said that, if he disgraced the family by going to prison, he would not leave a farthing of his fortune to him or to me. We knew that he was quite capable of carrying out this threat, and were at our wits’ end what to do; for my brother’s creditors were so vindictive and watchful, that for him to escape to the Continent appeared out of the question, when Miss Playfair, to whom I had just become engaged——”
“What!” we exclaimed; “did you know Miss Playfair before you came here?”
“Yes,” he said; “and it was she who first put into our heads the notion of coming. She had been on a visit at Mudford once; and when she heard that Mr Mole’s practice was to be sold, an idea occurred to her. She suggested it to me, and we all talked it over between us, and at length determined to carry it out, my uncle being especially delighted with the plan, from a cunning feeling of pleasure at the trick itself, as well as from the prospect of escaping an advance of cash, and yet of the family avoiding the disgrace of Henry’s going to prison. The plan was, that I should buy Mr Mole’s practice, which did not require a large outlay, and that we should all come quietly down here together, making it at the same time be believed that Henry and his wife had escaped to the Continent. My brother and I being, as you see, very much alike, we thought that, by taking care not to go out together, nor to be seen at the same time—by trimming our beards and mustaches in precisely the same way, and by always wearing exactly the same kind of dress—we might cause it to be believed, especially by strangers, that we were one and the same person. My brother’s wife, almost ever since her marriage, had been an invalid, and was confined almost entirely to the house, so that there was no fear of our being found out through her; and for our housekeeper we chose an old servant of the family, on whose fidelity we could depend. There were several reasons which determined us on taking the proposed step. My brother’s wife was horrified at the idea of her husband being taken from her and sent to prison, and would have put up with anything rather than that; and Miss Playfair was coming down here again on a visit, so that we thought we should be able frequently to see each other—a thing which my uncle’s strange character, and the uncertainty of my prospects from him, made her parents rather object to at home. Besides this, my brother and I had jointly made some rather important discoveries in chemistry and electricity, and we wished to remain together in order to carry out a systematic course of experiments, and conjointly to write a work on the subject. More than all, as I said before, the notion took our uncle’s fancy so much, that he made quite a point of it, and we saw that we could not refuse to go on with the scheme without giving him the greatest offence, which, under the circumstances, we could not afford to do.
“But we had not sufficiently calculated the tattle and espionage of a small town; and had no foreboding of the dark rumours and suspicions about us to which our plot would give rise: else, I am sure, we should never have ventured to carry it out. Whatever had been the consequence, we could, I think, have gone on with it no longer after what has occurred: but, two days ago, we received a communication stating that our uncle had died almost suddenly, and had left all his property—a very considerable one—to my brother and myself: so that my brother can now pay all his debts, and meet his creditors in the gate; and we have each of us an income which enables us to dispense with the active practice of our profession. As, at the same time, it fortunately happens that our book and our experiments are completed, and my sister-in-law nearly recovered, we intend to leave this place to-morrow: but, before doing so, we thought it but right to ask you gentlemen to meet us here to-day, in order that you may understand what has appeared so mysterious about us, and explain the same, as I hope you will have the kindness to do, to your friends. Come, gentlemen, a glass of wine.”
“But,” said one of our party, “young Flibbert saw a grave in your garden, and a coffin, and all that. What was that, Doctor?”
“Oh,” said Henry, the married man, with a laugh, “that was my wife’s pet cockatoo! The poor thing died, and I promised my wife to give it decent burial in the garden; but when I heard the fellow on the wall, I fancied they would be for digging it up again; and, determined to disappoint them, I brought the bird back, and stuffed it, having acquired the art some years ago. Here it is, gentlemen.”
He opened a cupboard, and showed us the stuffed figure of a large white cockatoo, wanting only a glass case to be really a very handsome thing.
“Anything else, gentlemen?”
“Why,” said another of the party, “the strange lights that have been seen, and the strange sounds that have been heard; we should like to have them explained, if not too much trouble.”
“Well,” said he, “our experiments in chemistry and electricity produced some strange lights now and then; and we purposely frightened the fellows when they came to dig up the poor cockatoo; and I daresay we occasionally caused some strange sounds in the same way: but I fancy that for these latter the late lamented cockatoo is principally responsible. He was a deuce of a fellow to scream and chatter, though you wouldn’t think it, to look at him now. Take another glass of wine, gentlemen.”