"_No!_" he croaked, excitedly. "Plenty of other discoveries have been far more marvellous, but I've ignored them at the time because they weren't of immediate importance. This is different. It's a . . . tremendous and magnificent hope--a sort of light in the darkness, George. . . . Some will be too apathetic or ignorant to notice; some too tired and lonely to care; and some so ill and battered that death is far more pleasant than life. But a few, like myself, will see it as one of the greatest miracles of modern science, and they will take advantage of it. . . ." He ceased abruptly--as if his mind had driven the creaking mechanism of his body to the verge of a breakdown. A fit of coughing seized him, he clutched at the back of his arm-chair, and with a shuddering sigh he sank down into this throne of contemplation which had become so great a necessity to his existence. For awhile I thought that he was really ill, and poor little wide-eyed Molly ran to me and hung on to my sleeve, feeling no doubt that she was responsible for this sudden and unexpected outburst which had at last ended in physical collapse. "Get me the brandy, dear," I said, placing my hands under Gran'pa's arms and raising him from his huddled position of insecurity. As Molly crossed over to the sideboard he tried to rise, only to drop back again, exhausted and breathless. His face was deadly white, his hands shook, and his jaws fell apart as if the last vestige of his strength had gone. I took the bottle from Molly, hurriedly tipped some of its contents into the nearest cup, and tilted back Gran'pa's head, literally using his throat as a funnel into which I poured the brandy. A convulsive movement followed and I was fearful that he might expire. It was like one of those moments when the crank of some huge engine dramatically pauses, and one is uncertain whether the fly-wheel will stop or gradually begin to pick up speed again. To this day I believe that it was "touch and go" with his life, those few drops of brandy providing just that tiny fillip required to set the wheels of existence in motion again. "Thank God!" I breathed, as his mouth closed and his eyelids fluttered. Molly was behind me, making peculiar little whimpering noises, and, taking hold of my hand, she pressed it tightly against her hot cheek. I stooped down and kissed her--poor little, frightened girl! "Run into the kitchen to Nanny," I whispered. "But--not a word!" "No, Daddy. . . ." She went out and, with a sudden start, Gran'pa sat up. "What was I saying?" he asked, feebly. The question sounded so ludicrous that I couldn't help laughing. "Oh! You were--just chatting about old times." "Was I?" He smoothed his long white beard with a trembling, blue-veined hand and then ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead, and looking extremely puzzled.