CHAPTER VIII
THE BLUE DISEASE
Next day the first news of the Sarakoff-Harden bacillus appeared in asmall paragraph in an evening paper, and immediately I saw it, I hurriedback to the house in Harley Street where Sarakoff was writing a recordof our researches.
"Listen to this," I cried, bursting excitedly into the room. I laid thepaper on the table and pointed to the column. "Curious disease amongtrout in Wales," I read. "In the Elan reservoirs which have long beenfamed for their magnificent trout, which have recently increased soenormously in size and number that artificial stocking is entirelyunnecessary, a curious disease has made its appearance. Fish caughtthere this morning are reported to have an unnatural bluish tint, andtheir flesh, when cooked, retains this hue. It is thought that somedisease has broken out. Against this theory is the fact that no deadfish have been observed. The Water Committee of the City Council ofBirmingham are investigating this matter."
Sarakoff pushed his chair back and twisted it round towards me. For somemoments we stared at each other with almost scared expressions. Then asmile passed over the Russian's face.
"Ah, we had forgotten that. A bluish tint! Of course, it was to beexpected."
"Yes," I cried, "and what is more, the bluish tint will show itself inevery man, woman or child infected with the bacillus. Good heavens,fancy not thinking of that ourselves!"
Sarakoff picked up the paper and read the paragraph for himself. Then helaid it down. "It is strange that one so persistently neglects theobvious in one's calculations. Of course there will be a bluish tint."He leaned back and pulled at his beard. "I should think it will showitself in the whites of the eyes first, just as jaundice shews itselfthere. Leonora won't like that--it won't suit her colouring. You seethat these fish, when cooked, retained the bluish hue. That is veryinteresting."
"It's very bad luck on the trout."
"Why?"
"After getting the bacillus into their system, they blunder on to a hookand meet their death straight away."
"The bacillus is not proof against death by violence," replied Sarakoffgravely. "That is a factor that will always remain constant. We areagreed in looking on all disease as eventually due to poisons derivedfrom germ activity, but a bang on the head or asphyxiation or prussicacid or a bullet in the heart are not due to a germ. Yes, these poortrout little knew what a future they forfeited when they took the bait."
"The bacillus is in Birmingham by now," I said suddenly. I passed myhand across my brow nervously, and glanced at the manuscript lyingbefore Sarakoff. "You had better keep those papers locked up. I spent anawful day at the hospital. It dawned on me that the whole medicalprofession will want to tear us in pieces before the year is out."
"In theory they ought not to."
"Who cares for theory, when it is a question of earning a living? As Iwalked along the street to-day, I could have shrieked aloud when I saweverybody hurrying about as if nothing were going to happen. This isunnerving me. It is so tremendous."
Sarakoff picked up his pen, and traced out a pattern in the blotting-padbefore him.
"The Water Committee of Birmingham are investigating the matter," heobserved. "It will be amusing to hear their report. What will they thinkwhen they make a bacteriological examination of the water in thereservoir? It will stagger them."
The next morning I was down to breakfast before my friend and stoodbefore the fire eagerly scanning the papers. At first I could findnothing that seemed to indicate any further effects of the bacillus. Iwas in the act of buttering a piece of toast when my eye fell on one ofthe newspapers lying beside me. A heading in small type caught my eye.
"_The measles epidemic in Ludlow._" I picked the paper up.
"The severe epidemic of measles which began last week and seemed likelyto spread through the entire town, has mysteriously abated. Not only areno further cases reported, but several doctors report that thosealready attacked have recovered in an incredibly short space of time.Doubt has been expressed by the municipal authorities as to whether theepidemic was really measles."
I adjusted my glasses to read the paragraph again. Then I got up andwent into my study. After rummaging in a drawer I pulled out andunrolled a map of England. The course of the aqueduct from Elan toBirmingham was marked by a thin red line. I followed it slowly with thepoint of my finger and came on the town of Ludlow about half-way along.I stared at it.
"Of course," I whispered at length, my finger still resting on theposition of the town. "All these towns on the way are supplied by theaqueduct. I hadn't thought of that. The bacillus is in Ludlow."
For about a minute I did not move. Then I rolled up the map and went upto Sarakoff's bedroom. I met the Russian on the landing on his way tothe bathroom.
"The bacillus is in Ludlow," I said in a curiously small voice. I stoodon the top stair, holding on to the bannister, my big glasses aslant onmy nose, and the map hanging down in my limp grasp.
I had to repeat the sentence before Sarakoff heard me.
"Where's Ludlow?"
I sank on my knees and unrolled the map on the floor and pointeddirectly with my finger.
Sarakoff went down on all fours and looked at the spot keenly.
"Ah, on the line of the aqueduct! But how do you know it is there?"
"It has cut short an epidemic of measles. The doctors are puzzled."
Sarakoff nodded. He was looking at the names of the other towns that layon the course of the aqueduct.
"Cleobury-Mortimer," he spelt out. "No news from there?"
"None."
"And none from Birmingham yet?"
"None."
"We'll have news to-morrow." He raised himself on his knees. "Trout andthen measles!" he said, and laughed. "This is only the beginning. Nowonder the Ludlow doctors are puzzled."
The same evening there was further news of the progress of the bacillus.From Cleobury-Mortimer, ten miles from Ludlow, and twenty fromBirmingham, it was reported that the measles epidemic there had been cutshort in the same mysterious manner as noticed in Ludlow. But nextmorning a paragraph of considerable length appeared which I read out ina trembling voice to Sarakoff.
"It was reported a short time ago that the trout in the Elanreservoirs appeared to be suffering from a singular disease, theeffect of which was to tint their scales and flesh a delicate bluishcolour. The matter is being investigated. In the meanwhile it has beennoticed, both in Ludlow and Cleobury-Mortimer, and also in Knighton,that the peculiar bluish tint has appeared amongst the inhabitants.Our correspondent states that it is most marked in the conjunctivae, orwhites of the eyes. There must undoubtedly be some connection betweenthis phenomenon and the condition of the trout in the Elan reservoirs,as all the above-mentioned towns lie close to, and receive water from,the great aqueduct. The most remarkable thing, however, is that thebluish discolouration does not seem to be accompanied by any symptomsof illness in those whom it has affected. No sickness or fever hasbeen observed. It is perhaps nothing more than a curious coincidencethat the abrupt cessation of the measles epidemic in Ludlow andCleobury-Mortimer, reported in yesterday's issue, should have occurredsimultaneously with the appearance of bluish discolouration among theinhabitants."
On the same evening, I was returning from the hospital and saw thefollowing words on a poster:--
"Blue Disease in Birmingham."
I bought a paper and scanned the columns rapidly. In the stop-press newsI read:--
"The Blue Disease has appeared in Birmingham. Cases are reported allover the city. The Public Health Department are considering whatmeasures should be adopted. The disease seems to be unaccompanied by anydangerous symptoms."
I stood stock-still in the middle of the pavement. A steady stream ofpeople hurrying from business thronged past me. A newspaper boy wasshouting something down the street, and as he drew nearer, I heard hishoarse voice bawling out:--
"Blue Disease in Birmingham."
He passed close to me, still bawling, and his voice died away in
thedistance. Men jostled me and glanced at me angrily.... But I was lost ina dream. The paper dropped from my fingers. In my mind's eye I saw theSarakoff-Harden bacillus in Birmingham, teeming in every water-pipe incountless billions, swarming in the carafes on dining-room tables, andin every ewer and finger-basin, infecting everything it came in contactwith. And the vision of Birmingham and the whole stretch of country upto the Elan watershed passed before me, stained with a vivid blue.