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THE BLUE GERM
_WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
LORD RICHARD IN THE PANTRY
CUPID GOES NORTH
THE SPORTING INSTINCT
IN MESOPOTAMIA. (With Illustrations in Colour by the Author.)
LONDON: HODDER AND STOUGHTON
THE BLUE GERM
BY MARTIN SWAYNE
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
MCMXVIII
Printed in Great Britain By
Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,
BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E. 1,
AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
TO
J. E. H. W.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. BLACK MAGIC 1
II. SARAKOFF'S MANIFESTO 5
III. THE BUTTERFLIES 14
IV. THE SIX TUBES 21
V. THE GREAT AQUEDUCT 29
VI. THE ATTITUDE OF MR. THORNDUCK 32
VII. LEONORA 40
VIII. THE BLUE DISEASE 58
IX. THE MAN FROM BIRMINGHAM 67
X. THE ILLNESS OF MR. ANNOT 79
XI. THE RESURRECTION 90
XII. MR. CLUTTERBUCK'S OPINION 101
XIII. THE DEAD IMMORTAL 110
XIV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF IMMORTALITY 123
XV. THE TERRIBLE FEAR 132
XVI. THE VISIT OF THE HOME SECRETARY 144
XVII. CLUTTERBUCK'S ODD BEHAVIOUR 156
XVIII. IMMORTAL LOVE 161
XIX. THE MEETING AT THE QUEEN'S HALL 177
XX. THE WAY BACK 188
XXI. JASON 196
XXII. THE FIRST MURDERS 206
XXIII. AT DOWNING STREET 216
XXIV. NIGHT OF AN IMMORTAL 224
XXV. OUR FLIGHT 229
XXVI. ON THE SPANIARD'S WALK 236
XXVII. LEONORA'S VOICE 245
XXVIII. THE KILLING OF DESIRE 252
XXIX. THE REVOLT OF THE YOUNG 260
XXX. THE GREAT SLEEP 273
CHAPTER I
BLACK MAGIC
I had just finished breakfast, and deeply perplexed had risen from the
table in order to get a box of matches to light a cigarette, when my
black cat got between my feet and tripped me up.
I fell forwards, making a clutch at the table-cloth. My forehead struck
the corner of the fender and the last thing I remembered was a crash of
falling crockery. Then all became darkness. My parlour-maid found me
lying face downwards on the hearth-rug ten minutes later. My cat was
sitting near my head, blinking contentedly at the fire. A little blood
was oozing from a wound above my left eye.
They carried me up to my bedroom and sent for my colleague, Wilfred
Hammer, who lived next door. For three days I lay insensible, and Hammer
came in continually, whenever he could spare the time from his
patients, and brooded over me. On the fourth day I began to move about
in my bed, restless and muttering, and Hammer told me afterwards that I
seemed to be talking of a black cat. On the night of the fourth day I
suddenly opened my eyes. My perplexity had left me. An idea, clear as
crystal, was now in my mind.
From that moment my confinement to bed was a source of impatience to me.
Hammer, large, fair, square-headed, and imperturbable, insisted on
complete rest, and I chafed under the restraint. I had only one
desire--to get up, slip down to St. Dane's Hospital in my car, mount the
bare stone steps that led up to the laboratory and begin work at once.
"Let me up, Hammer," I implored.
"My dear fellow, you're semi-delirious."
"I must get up," I muttered.
He laughed slowly.
"Not for another week or two, Harden. How is the black cat?"
"That cat is a wizard."
I lay watching him between half-closed eyelids.
"He gave me the idea."
"He gave you a nasty concussion," said Hammer.
"It was probably the only way to the idea," I answered. "I tell you the
cat is a wizard. He did it on purpose. He's a black magician."
Hammer laughed again, and went towards the door.
"Then the idea must be black magic," he said.
I smiled painfully, for my head was throbbing. But I was happier then
than I had ever been, for I had solved the problem that had haunted my
brain for ten years.
"There's no such thing as black magic," I said.
Three weeks later I beheld the miracle. It was wrought on the last day
of December, in the laboratory of the hospital, high above the gloom and
squalor of the city. The miracle occurred within a brilliant little
circle of light, and I saw it with my eye glued to a microscope. It
passed off swiftly and quietly, and though I expected it, I was filled
with a great wonder and amazement.
To a lay mind the amazement with which I beheld the miracle will require
explanation. I had witnessed the transformation of one germ into
another; a thing which is similar to a man seeing a flock of sheep on a
hill-side change suddenly into a herd of cattle. For many minutes I
continued to move the slide in an aimless way with trembling fingers. My
temperament is earthy; it had once occurred to me quite seriously that
if I saw a miracle I would probably go mad under the strain. Now that I
had seen one, after the first flash of realization my mind was listless
and dull, and all feeling of surprise had died away. The black rods
floated with slow motion in the minute currents of fluid I had
introduced. The faint roar of London came up from far below; the clock
ticked steadily and the microscope lamp shone with silent radiance. And
I, Richard Harden, sat dangling my short legs on the high stool,
thinking and thinking....
That night I wrote to Professor Sarakoff. A month later I was on my way
to Russia.