I seem to have been endowed with a fresh
lease of life. I feel young again. Do you think this Blue Disease is the
cause of it?"

"Possibly. It is difficult to say," I answered in some confusion. "But
you must not think of getting up, Mr. Annot. Rest in bed for the next
week is essential."

"Humbug!" cried the old man, fixing his brilliant eyes upon me. "I am
going to get up this instant."

"Oh, father, please don't be so foolish!"

"Foolish, child? Do you think I'm going to lie here when I feel as if my
body and mind had been completely rejuvenated? I repeat I am going to
get up. Nothing on earth will keep me in bed."

The old man began to remove the bedclothes. I made an attempt to
restrain him, but was met by an outburst of irritation that warned me
not to interfere. I motioned Alice to follow me, and together we left
the room. As we went downstairs I heard a curious sound proceeding from
Mr. Annot's bedroom. We halted on the stairs and listened. The sound
became louder and clearer.

"Father is singing," said Alice in a low voice. Then she took out her
handkerchief and began to sob.

We continued our way downstairs, Alice endeavouring to stifle her sobs,
and I in a dazed condition of mind. I was stunned by the fact that that
mad experiment of ours should have had such a sudden and strange result.
It produced in me a fear that was far worse to bear than the vague
anxiety I had felt ever since those fatal tubes of the Sarakoff-Harden
bacillus had been emptied into the lake. I stumbled into the
drawing-room and threw myself upon a chair. My legs were weak, and my
hands were trembling.

"Alice," I said, "you must not allow this to distress you. The Blue
Disease is not dangerous."

She lifted a tear-stained face and looked at me dully.

"Richard, I can't bear it any longer. I've given half my life to looking
after father. I simply can't bear it."

I sat up and stared at her. What strange intuition had come to her?

"What do you mean?"

She sobbed afresh.

"I can't endure the sight of him with those blue eyes," she went on,
rather wildly. "Richard, I must get away. I've never been from him for
more than a few hours at a time for the last fifteen years. Don't think
I want him to die."

"I don't."

"I'm glad he's better," she remarked irrelevantly.

"So am I."

"The Perrys were saying that the doctors up in Birmingham think that the
Blue Disease cut short other diseases, and made people feel better."