"Alice!" And then the words stuck in my throat. She turned her head and her eyes questioned me. I tried to continue, but something prevented me, and I became suddenly calm again. "Please take me up to your father," I begged her. She obeyed silently, and I followed her upstairs. Mr. Annot was lying in a darkened room with his eyes closed. He was a very old man, approaching ninety, with a thin aquiline face and white hair. He lay very still, and at first I thought he was unconscious. But his pulse was surprisingly good, and his breathing deep and regular. "He is sleeping," I murmured. She leaned over the bed. "He scarcely slept during the night," she whispered. "This will do him good." "His pulse could not be better," I murmured. She peered at him more closely. "Isn't he very pale?" I stooped down, so that my face was close to hers. The old man certainly looked very pale. A marble-like hue lay over his features, and yet the skin was warm to the touch. "How long has he been asleep?" I asked. "He was awake over an hour ago, when I looked in last. He said then that he was feeling drowsy." "I think we'll wake him up." Alice hesitated. "Won't you wait for tea?" she whispered. "He would probably be awake by then." I shook my head. "I must get back to London by five. Do you mind if we have a little more light?" She moved to the window and raised the blind half way. I examined the old man attentively. There was no doubt about the curious pallor of his skin. It was like the pallor of extreme collapse, save for the presence of a faint colour in his cheeks which seemed to lie as a bright transparency over a dead background. My fingers again sought his pulse. It was full and steady. As I counted it my eyes rested on his hand. I stooped down suddenly with an exclamation. Alice hurried to my side. "Where did those friends of his come from?" I asked swiftly. "The Perrys? From Birmingham." "Was there anything wrong with them?" "What do you mean?" Before I could reply the old man opened his eyes. The light fell clearly on his face. Alice uttered a cry of horror. I experienced an extraordinary sensation of fear. Out of the marble pallor of Mr. Annot's face, two eyes, stained a sparrow-egg blue, stared keenly at us. CHAPTER XI THE RESURRECTION For some moments none of us spoke. Alice recovered herself first. "What is the matter with him?" she gasped. I was incapable of finding a suitable reply, and stood, tongue-tied, staring foolishly at the old man. He seemed a little surprised at our behaviour. "Dr. Harden," he said, "I am glad to see you. My daughter did not tell me you were coming." His voice startled me. It was strong and clear. On my previous visit to him he had spoken in quavering tones. "Oh, father, how do you feel?" exclaimed Alice, kneeling beside the bed.