“No, sir,” I answered firmly. “Rats are actually very intelligent and gentle creatures. They are easy to domesticate.”
“Go on, then,” Sir Charles said. “What did all this tell you?”
“Professor Yousoupoff got very excited. ‘Oswaldsky!’ he shouted--that’s what he called me. ‘Oswaldsky, my boy, I think I have discovered the absolutely greatest most powerful sexual stimulant in the whole history of mankind!’
“‘I think you have, too,’ I said. We were still standing by the cage of rats and the male rat was still leaping on the wretched females, one after the other. Within an hour, he had collapsed from exhaustion. ‘We give him too big a dose,’ the Professor said.”
“This rat,” the Mexican ambassador said, “what came of him in the end?”
“He died,” I said.
“From too much women, yes?”
“Yes,” I said.
The little Mexican clapped his hands together hard and cried out, “That is exactly how I wish to go when I die! From too much women!”
“From too much goats and donkeys iss more like it in Mexico,” the German ambassador snorted.
“That’s enough of that, Wolfgang,” Sir Charles said. “Let’s not start any wars. We are listening to a most interesting story. Carry on, my boy.”
“So the next time,” I said, “we isolated only twenty of these tiny red microscopic nuclei. We inserted them in a pellet of bread and then went out looking for a very old man. With the help of the local newspaper, we found our old man in Newmarket--that’s a town not far from Cambridge. His name was Mr. Sawkins, and he was one hundred and two years old. He was suffering from advanced senility. His mind was wandering and he had to be fed by spoon. He had not been out of bed for seven years. The Professor and I knocked on the door of his house and his daughter, aged eighty, opened it. ‘I am Professor Yousoupoff,’ the Professor announced. ‘I have discovered a great medicine to help old people. Will you allow us to give some to your poor old father?’
“‘You can give ‘im anything you damn well please,’ the daughter said. ‘The old fool doesn’t know what’s goin’ on from one day to the next. ‘E’s a flamin’ nuisance.’
“We went upstairs and the Professor somehow managed to poke the bread pellet down the old man’s throat. I noted the time by my watch. ‘Let us retire to the Street outside and observe,’ the Professor said.
“We went out and stood in the street. I was counting each minute aloud as it went by. And then--you won’t believe this, gentlemen, but I swear it’s exactly what happened--precisely on the dot of nine minutes, there was a thunderous bellow from inside the Sawkins house. The front door burst open and the old man himself rushed out into the street. He was in bare feet, wearing dirty blueand-grey-striped pyjamas, and his long white hair was all over his shoulders. ‘I want me a woman!’ he bellowed. ‘I want me a woman and by God I’m goin’ to get me a woman!’ The Professor clutched my arm. ‘Don’t move!’ he ordered. ‘Just observe!’
“The eighty-year-old daughter came rushing out after the father. ‘Come back, you old fool!’ she yelled. ‘What the ‘ell d’you think you’re up to?’
“We were, by the way, in a little street with a row of identical connected houses on either side. Mr. Sawkins ignored his daughter and ran, he actually ran, to the nextdoor house. He started banging on the door with his fists. ‘Open up, Mrs. Twitchell!’ he bellowed. ‘Come on, my beauty, open up and let’s ‘ave a bit of fun!’
“I caught a glimpse of the terrified face of Mrs. Twitchell at the window. Then it went away. Mr. Sawkins, still bellowing, put his shoulder to the flimsy door and smashed the lock. He dived inside. We stayed out on the street, waiting for the next development. The Professor was very excited. He was jumping up and down in his funny black boots and shouting, ‘We have a breakthrough! We’ve done it! We shall rejuvenate the world!’
“Suddenly, piercing screams and yells came issuing from Mrs. Twitchell’s house. Neighbours were beginning to gather on the street. ‘Go in and get ‘im!’ shouted the old daughter. “E’s gone stark starin’ mad!’ Two men ran into the Twitchell house. There were sounds of a scuffle. Soon, out came the two men, frog-marching old Mr. Sawkins between them. ‘I ‘ad er!’ he was yelling. ‘I ‘ad the old bitch good and proper! I near rattled ‘er to death!’ At that point, the Professor and I moved quietly away from the scene.”