The daily morning journal and courier., 1905-09-09
HIS DOUBLE LIFE.

am sane or insane" The man who l spoke was middle aged and wore ! look of extreme anxiety Dr. Brown
 ell, the eminent specialist in diseases of
 the brain and nerves, smiled at the
 questioner and replied: I think ] can
 assure you. without going any farther, 1 that you arr perfectly sane, 1t is only the sane person who doubts his sanity Wait till you hear what have to | tell you," exclaimed the patient, and then perhaps you will change your
 opinion. l am generally thought to be
 a cool clear-headed man. but at this moment l strongly suspect that am simply lunatic.
 i As you know was q successful SO- | licitor until I retired from business four ] years ago-about the time when l made
 your acquaintance. While 1 was sup posed to be man without a particle l of romance in my composition l had
 one weakness, which now suspect to
 have marked the germ of lunacy. l
 had a curious longing to lead two lives
 at once. The stories which came to my
 knowledge from time to time of men
 who lived one life under one name and
 at the same time another life under
 another name fascinated me. Could be at one and the same time George Russell of Bayswater, the well-known
 and respected solicitor, and John Smith
 of Bloomsbury, the popular music hall
 singer, felt that my ideal of existence
 would be realized. l knew perfectly
 well that this was little better than
 childish nonsense, but the idea was constantly recurring to me, and l used
 to dream of it's realization, as children
 dream of the joys of being cast on un-
 inhabited islands and living over again the experience of Robinson Crusoe.
 When I finally retired from my pro- fession l determined to make an att
 tempt to become a story writer. fam
 cied that I had sufficient imagination
 and believed that, with persistent effort,
 I could learn the art of story telling. To
 my surprise, my first story was accept
 ed, and the editor who accepted it
 wrote me letter full of encouragement.
 That decided the future for me, and
 saw my way not only to making q
 modest reputation as an author but of
 leading the dual life which had so long
 allured me.
 As an unmarried man, living in
 chambers I might have pursued my
 story-writing at home without fear of disturbance or of discovery, for was
 anxious that it should not be known
 among my friends that I, George Rus-
 sell, was the story writer who signed
 himself John Alderman. was re- solved that I would separate George
 Russell as widely as possible from John
 Alderman. One morning I disguised myself elaborately with spectacles, q r full beard and wig, and, slipping out of my door unseen, I made my way in- , to the next street, where I took a cab
 and drove to Chelsea. There I soon found a room that suited my purpose.
 It was plainly furnished and was at the back of the house, in a quiet street. I } promptly took it for year. paid three months rent in advance and stipulated T that should be free to enter or leave
 the house at any hour without inquiry. 1 I rather think that the woman who let the room fancied that I was engaged in , some illegal pursuit. but she evidently cared little about her lodgers, provided , they paid their rent and avoided mak- , ing disturbance in the house.
 f ''To this room I removed my writing
 materials, and in it I set myself at 7 work to become a popular story writer. . I think I may say that 1 succeeded. At . any rate there was soon a demand for l my work, and soon became well
 knonw even if I was not hailed with en- l thusiasm. I worked hard, for I liked a the work, and 1t had been my habit to . work hard all my life. I never went to , my Chelsea home except in my dis , guise, and I never returned to my onw , chambers without first divestng myself of my beard and spectacles. This I Y could easily do in some unfrequented , street or in the gardens of the embank- , ment. I was never, so far as I know,
 detected in the act of changing my ap-
 pearance in the street, and l took a
 childish pleasure in the act, When I ; passed an acquaintance while wearing U my disguise. and saw that he did not " recognize me- I was delighted. This, you will say, was childish. I wish that 5 were the worst that could be said of it. It may have been the first symptoms o1
 insanity. But of that you can judge
 better when you have heard all that l S have to ten.
 Tn the meantime, remember that I was born into the world an idealist, a 5 dreamer, a sentimentalist; and that , I circumstances having made me a shrewd, prosaic solicitor, the romantic D side of my nature had faded out of sight But when abandoned my pro- fession and was free man the romance II again asserted it's hold on me, and witt U the more avidity, because, for so many Il years it had been sternly suppressed. ]
 was like foolish young man who has l. been strictly brought up, and, suddenly e finding himself his own master and ., free to do as he pleases, plunges into = all sorts of folly. was plnging into l. the only kind of dissipation that had any attraction for me. was living a e. dual life, and enjoying it intensely K Whether that was insanity, or merely - stiffness, l must leave you to judge.
 T had been a successful author fol I. nearly two years when fell on a bit O - orange peel and broke my leg. Before l. it was fully mended contracted pneu. /. monia and came very near dying. Ther