"If he would open his bag we should be satisfied," added the station-master. I looked at my friend significantly.
"Why not open it?" I asked. "It would be simplest."
My words had the effect of quieting the excited professor. He put the bag on the table, and placed his hands on the top of it.
"Very well," he said slowly, "I will open it, since my friend Dr. Harden has requested me to do so."
"Stand back!" cried Lord Alberan, flinging out his arms. "We may be so much dust flying over London in a moment."
Sarakoff took out a key and unlocked the bag. There was silence for a moment, only broken by hurrying footsteps on the platform without. Then Lord Alberan stepped cautiously forward.
He saw the worn canvas lining of the bag. He took a step nearer and saw a wooden rack, fitted in the interior, containing six glass tubes whose mouths were stopped with plugs of cotton wool.
"You see, there is nothing important there," said Sarakoff with a smile. "These objects are of purely scientific interest." He took out one of the tubes and held it up to the light. It was half full of a semi-transparent jelly-like mass, faintly blue in colour. The detective, the policeman and the station official clustered round, their faces turned up to the light and their eyes fixed on the tube. The Russian looked at them narrowly, and reading nothing but dull wonderment in their expressions, began to speak again.
"Yes—the Bacillus Pyocyaneus," he said, with a faint mocking smile and a side glance at me. "It is occasionally met with in man and is easily detected by the blue bye-product it gives off while growing." He twisted the tube slowly round. "It is quite an interesting culture," he continued idly. "Do you observe the uniform distribution of the growth and the absence of any sign of liquefaction in the medium?"
Lord Alberan cleared his throat.