After this brief statement Sarakoff calmly sat down, and absolute silence reigned. Sir Jeremy, still smiling blandly, stared up at him. Every face was turned in our direction. A murmur began, which quickly increased. A doctor behind me leaned over and touched my shoulder. "Is he sane?" he asked in a whisper. "Perfectly," I replied. "But you don't believe him?" "Of course I do." "But it's ridiculous! Who is this Dr. Harden?" "I am Dr. Harden." The uproar in the Hall was now considerable. Sir Jeremy rose, and waved his hands in gestures of restraint. Finally he had recourse to a bell that stood on the table. "Gentlemen," he said, when silence was restored. "We have just heard a remarkable statement from Professor Sarakoff and I think I am justified in asking for proofs." I instantly got up. I was quite calm. "I can prove that Sarakoff's statement is perfectly correct," I said. "I am Richard Harden. I discovered the method whereby the bacillus became a possibility. Every man in this Hall who has the Sarakoff-Harden bacillus in his system is immortal. You, Mr. President, are not yet one of the Immortals. But I fancy in a day or two you will join us." I paused and smiled easily at the concourse below and around me. "It is really bad luck on the medical profession," I continued. "I'm afraid we'll all have to find some other occupation. Of course you've all noticed how the germ cuts short disease." I sat down again. The smile on Sir Jeremy's face had weakened a little. "Turn them out!" shouted an angry voice from the body of the Hall. Sir Jeremy held up a protesting hand, and then took off his glasses and began to polish them. A buzz of talk arose. Men turned to one another and began to argue. The doctor behind me leaned forward again. "Is this a joke?" he enquired rather loudly. "No." "But you two are speaking rubbish. What the devil do you mean by saying you're immortal?" I turned and looked at him. My calmness enraged him. He was a shaggy, irritable, middle-aged practitioner. "You've got the Blue Disease, but you're no more immortal than a blue monkey." He looked fiercely round at his neighbours. "What do you think?" A babel of voices sounded in our ears. Sir Jeremy Jones appeared perplexed. Someone stood up in the body of the Hall and Sir Jeremy caught his eye and seemed relieved. It was my friend Hammer, who had tended me after the accident that my black cat had brought about.