The Invisible Man

A Grotesque Romance

By H. G. Wells

CONTENTS

 I The strange Man's Arrival II Mr. Teddy Henfrey's first Impressions III The thousand and one Bottles IV Mr. Cuss interviews the Stranger V The Burglary at the Vicarage VI The Furniture that went mad VII The Unveiling of the Stranger VIII In Transit IX Mr. Thomas Marvel X Mr. Marvel's Visit to Iping XI In the "Coach and Horses" XII The invisible Man loses his Temper XIII Mr. Marvel discusses his Resignation XIV At Port Stowe XV The Man who was running XVI In the "Jolly Cricketers" XVII Dr. Kemp's Visitor XVIII The invisible Man sleeps XIX Certain first Principles XX At the House in Great Portland Street XXI In Oxford Street XXII In the Emporium XXIII In Drury Lane XXIV The Plan that failed XXV The Hunting of the invisible Man XXVI The Wicksteed Murder XXVII The Siege of Kemp's House XXVIII The Hunter hunted The Epilogue

CHAPTER I

THE STRANGE MAN'S ARRIVAL

The stranger came early in February, one wintry day, through abiting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, overthe down, walking from Bramblehurst railway station, and carrying alittle black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand. He was wrappedup from head to foot, and the brim of his soft felt hat hid everyinch of his face but the shiny tip of his nose; the snow had pileditself against his shoulders and chest, and added a white crest tothe burden he carried. He staggered into the "Coach and Horses" moredead than alive, and flung his portmanteau down. "A fire, " he cried, "in the name of human charity! A room and a fire!" He stamped andshook the snow from off himself in the bar, and followed Mrs. Hallinto her guest parlour to strike his bargain. And with that muchintroduction, that and a couple of sovereigns flung upon the table, he took up his quarters in the inn. 

Mrs. Hall lit the fire and left him there while she went to preparehim a meal with her own hands. A guest to stop at Iping in thewintertime was an unheard-of piece of luck, let alone a guest whowas no "haggler, " and she was resolved to show herself worthy of hergood fortune. As soon as the bacon was well under way, and Millie, her lymphatic aid, had been brisked up a bit by a few deftly chosenexpressions of contempt, she carried the cloth, plates, and glassesinto the parlour and began to lay them with the utmost _eclat_. Although the fire was burning up briskly, she was surprised to seethat her visitor still wore his hat and coat, standing with his backto her and staring out of the window at the falling snow in the yard. His gloved hands were clasped behind him, and he seemed to be lostin thought. She noticed that the melting snow that still sprinkledhis shoulders dripped upon her carpet. "Can I take your hat and coat, sir?" she said, "and give them a good dry in the kitchen?"

"No, " he said without turning. 

She was not sure she had heard him, and was about to repeat herquestion. 

He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder. "I prefer tokeep them on, " he said with emphasis, and she noticed that he worebig blue spectacles with sidelights, and had a bush side-whiskerover his coat-collar that completely hid his cheeks and face. 

"Very well, sir, " she said. "_As_ you like. In a bit the room willbe warmer. "

He made no answer, and had turned his face away from her again, andMrs. Hall, feeling that her conversational advances were ill-timed, laid the rest of the table things in a quick staccato and whiskedout of the room. When she returned he was still standing there, likea man of stone, his back hunched, his collar turned up, his drippinghat-brim turned down, hiding his face and ears completely. She putdown the eggs and bacon with considerable emphasis, and calledrather than said to him, "Your lunch is served, sir. "

"Thank you, " he said at the same time, and did not stir until shewas closing the door. Then he swung round and approached the tablewith a certain eager quickness. 

As she went behind the bar to the kitchen she heard a sound repeatedat regular intervals. Chirk, chirk, chirk, it went, the sound of aspoon being rapidly whisked round a basin. "That girl!" she said. "There! I clean forgot it. It's her being so long!" And while sheherself finished mixing the mustard, she gave Millie a few verbalstabs for her excessive slowness. She had cooked the ham and eggs, laid the table, and done everything, while Millie (help indeed!) hadonly succeeded in delaying the mustard. And him a new guest andwanting to stay! Then she filled the mustard pot, and, putting itwith a certain stateliness upon a gold and black tea-tray, carriedit into the parlour. 

She rapped and entered promptly. As she did so her visitor movedquickly, so that she got but a glimpse of a white object disappearingbehind the table. It would seem he was picking something from thefloor. She rapped down the mustard pot on the table, and then shenoticed the overcoat and hat had been taken off and put over a chairin front of the fire, and a pair of wet boots threatened rust to hersteel fender. She went to these things resolutely. "I suppose I mayhave them to dry now, " she said in a voice that brooked no denial. 

"Leave the hat, " said her visitor, in a muffled voice, and turningshe saw he had raised his head and was sitting and looking at her. 

For a moment she stood gaping at him, too surprised to speak. 

He held a white cloth--it was a serviette he had brought withhim--over the lower part of his face, so that his mouth and jawswere completely hidden, and that was the reason of his muffledvoice. But it was not that which startled Mrs. Hall. It was the factthat all his forehead above his blue glasses was covered by a whitebandage, and that another covered his ears, leaving not a scrap ofhis face exposed excepting only his pink, peaked nose. It was bright, pink, and shiny just as it had been at first. He wore a dark-brownvelvet jacket with a high, black, linen-lined collar turned up abouthis neck. The thick black hair, escaping as it could below andbetween the cross bandages, projected in curious tails and horns, giving him the strangest appearance conceivable. This muffled andbandaged head was so unlike what she had anticipated, that for amoment she was rigid. 

He did not remove the serviette, but remained holding it, as shesaw now, with a brown gloved hand, and regarding her with hisinscrutable blue glasses. "Leave the hat, " he said, speaking verydistinctly through the white cloth. 

Her nerves began to recover from the shock they had received. Sheplaced the hat on the chair again by the fire. "I didn't know, sir, "she began, "that--" and she stopped embarrassed. 

"Thank you, " he said drily, glancing from her to the door and thenat her again. 

"I'll have them nicely dried, sir, at once, " she said, and carriedhis clothes out of the room. She glanced at his white-swathed headand blue goggles again as she was going out of the door; but hisnapkin was still in front of his face. She shivered a little as sheclosed the door behind her, and her face was eloquent of her surpriseand perplexity. "I _never_, " she whispered. "There!" She went quitesoftly to the kitchen, and was too preoccupied to ask Millie whatshe was messing about with _now_, when she got there. 

The visitor sat and listened to her retreating feet. He glancedinquiringly at the window before he removed his serviette, andresumed his meal. He took a mouthful, glanced suspiciously at thewindow, took another mouthful, then rose and, taking the serviettein his hand, walked across the room and pulled the blind down tothe top of the white muslin that obscured the lower panes. Thisleft the room in a twilight. This done, he returned with an easierair to the table and his meal. 

"The poor soul's had an accident or an op'ration or somethin', " saidMrs. Hall. "What a turn them bandages did give me, to be sure!"

She put on some more coal, unfolded the clothes-horse, and extendedthe traveller's coat upon this. "And they goggles! Why, he lookedmore like a divin' helmet than a human man!" She hung his muffleron a corner of the horse. "And holding that handkerchief over hismouth all the time. Talkin' through it! ... Perhaps his mouth washurt too--maybe. "

She turned round, as one who suddenly remembers. "Bless my soulalive!" she said, going off at a tangent; "ain't you done themtaters _yet_, Millie?"

When Mrs. Hall went to clear away the stranger's lunch, her ideathat his mouth must also have been cut or disfigured in the accidentshe supposed him to have suffered, was confirmed, for he was smokinga pipe, and all the time that she was in the room he never loosenedthe silk muffler he had wrapped round the lower part of his face toput the mouthpiece to his lips. Yet it was not forgetfulness, forshe saw he glanced at it as it smouldered out. He sat in the cornerwith his back to the window-blind and spoke now, having eaten anddrunk and being comfortably warmed through, with less aggressivebrevity than before. The reflection of the fire lent a kind of redanimation to his big spectacles they had lacked hitherto. 

"I have some luggage, " he said, "at Bramblehurst station, " and heasked her how he could have it sent. He bowed his bandaged headquite politely in acknowledgment of her explanation. "To-morrow?" hesaid. "There is no speedier delivery?" and seemed quite disappointedwhen she answered, "No. " Was she quite sure? No man with a trap whowould go over?

Mrs. Hall, nothing loath, answered his questions and developed aconversation. "It's a steep road by the down, sir, " she said inanswer to the question about a trap; and then, snatching at anopening, said, "It was there a carriage was upsettled, a year agoand more. A gentleman killed, besides his coachman. Accidents, sir, happen in a moment, don't they?"

But the visitor was not to be drawn so easily. "They do, " he saidthrough his muffler, eyeing her quietly through his impenetrableglasses. 

"But they take long enough to get well, don't they? ... There wasmy sister's son, Tom, jest cut his arm with a scythe, tumbled on itin the 'ayfield, and, bless me! he was three months tied up sir. You'd hardly believe it. It's regular given me a dread of a scythe, sir. "

"I can quite understand that, " said the visitor. 

"He was afraid, one time, that he'd have to have an op'ration--hewas that bad, sir. "

The visitor laughed abruptly, a bark of a laugh that he seemed tobite and kill in his mouth. "_Was_ he?" he said. 

"He was, sir. And no laughing matter to them as had the doing forhim, as I had--my sister being took up with her little ones somuch. There was bandages to do, sir, and bandages to undo. So thatif I may make so bold as to say it, sir--"

"Will you get me some matches?" said the visitor, quite abruptly. "My pipe is out. "

Mrs. Hall was pulled up suddenly. It was certainly rude of him, after telling him all she had done. She gasped at him for a moment, and remembered the two sovereigns. She went for the matches. 

"Thanks, " he said concisely, as she put them down, and turned hisshoulder upon her and stared out of the window again. It wasaltogether too discouraging. Evidently he was sensitive on thetopic of operations and bandages. She did not "make so bold as tosay, " however, after all. But his snubbing way had irritated her, and Millie had a hot time of it that afternoon. 

The visitor remained in the parlour until four o'clock, withoutgiving the ghost of an excuse for an intrusion. For the most parthe was quite still during that time; it would seem he sat in thegrowing darkness smoking in the firelight--perhaps dozing. 

Once or twice a curious listener might have heard him at the coals, and for the space of five minutes he was audible pacing the room. He seemed to be talking to himself. Then the armchair creaked ashe sat down again. 

CHAPTER II

MR. TEDDY HENFREY'S FIRST IMPRESSIONS

At four o'clock, when it was fairly dark and Mrs. Hall was screwingup her courage to go in and ask her visitor if he would take sometea, Teddy Henfrey, the clock-jobber, came into the bar. "My sakes!Mrs. Hall, " said he, "but this is terrible weather for thin boots!"The snow outside was falling faster. 

Mrs. Hall agreed, and then noticed he had his bag with him. "Nowyou're here, Mr. Teddy, " said she, "I'd be glad if you'd give th'old clock in the parlour a bit of a look. 'Tis going, and it strikeswell and hearty; but the hour-hand won't do nuthin' but point atsix. "

And leading the way, she went across to the parlour door and rappedand entered. 

Her visitor, she saw as she opened the door, was seated in thearmchair before the fire, dozing it would seem, with his bandagedhead drooping on one side. The only light in the room was the redglow from the fire--which lit his eyes like adverse railway signals, but left his downcast face in darkness--and the scanty vestiges ofthe day that came in through the open door. Everything was ruddy, shadowy, and indistinct to her, the more so since she had just beenlighting the bar lamp, and her eyes were dazzled. But for a secondit seemed to her that the man she looked at had an enormous mouthwide open--a vast and incredible mouth that swallowed the whole ofthe lower portion of his face. It was the sensation of a moment:the white-bound head, the monstrous goggle eyes, and this huge yawnbelow it. Then he stirred, started up in his chair, put up his hand. She opened the door wide, so that the room was lighter, and she sawhim more clearly, with the muffler held up to his face just as shehad seen him hold the serviette before. The shadows, she fancied, had tricked her. 

"Would you mind, sir, this man a-coming to look at the clock, sir?"she said, recovering from the momentary shock. 

"Look at the clock?" he said, staring round in a drowsy manner, and speaking over his hand, and then, getting more fully awake, "certainly. "

Mrs. Hall went away to get a lamp, and he rose and stretchedhimself. Then came the light, and Mr. Teddy Henfrey, entering, wasconfronted by this bandaged person. He was, he says, "taken aback. "

"Good afternoon, " said the stranger, regarding him--as Mr. Henfreysays, with a vivid sense of the dark spectacles--"like a lobster. "

"I hope, " said Mr. Henfrey, "that it's no intrusion. "

"None whatever, " said the stranger. "Though, I understand, " he saidturning to Mrs. Hall, "that this room is really to be mine for myown private use. "

"I thought, sir, " said Mrs. Hall, "you'd prefer the clock--"

"Certainly, " said the stranger, "certainly--but, as a rule, Ilike to be alone and undisturbed. 

"But I'm really glad to have the clock seen to, " he said, seeing acertain hesitation in Mr. Henfrey's manner. "Very glad. " Mr. Henfreyhad intended to apologise and withdraw, but this anticipationreassured him. The stranger turned round with his back to thefireplace and put his hands behind his back. "And presently, " hesaid, "when the clock-mending is over, I think I should like tohave some tea. But not till the clock-mending is over. "

Mrs. Hall was about to leave the room--she made no conversationaladvances this time, because she did not want to be snubbed in frontof Mr. Henfrey--when her visitor asked her if she had made anyarrangements about his boxes at Bramblehurst. She told him she hadmentioned the matter to the postman, and that the carrier couldbring them over on the morrow. "You are certain that is theearliest?" he said. 

She was certain, with a marked coldness. 

"I should explain, " he added, "what I was really too cold andfatigued to do before, that I am an experimental investigator. "

"Indeed, sir, " said Mrs. Hall, much impressed. 

"And my baggage contains apparatus and appliances. "

"Very useful things indeed they are, sir, " said Mrs. Hall. 

"And I'm very naturally anxious to get on with my inquiries. "

"Of course, sir. "

"My reason for coming to Iping, " he proceeded, with a certaindeliberation of manner, "was ... A desire for solitude. I do notwish to be disturbed in my work. In addition to my work, anaccident--"

"I thought as much, " said Mrs. Hall to herself. 

"--necessitates a certain retirement. My eyes--are sometimes soweak and painful that I have to shut myself up in the dark forhours together. Lock myself up. Sometimes--now and then. Not atpresent, certainly. At such times the slightest disturbance, theentry of a stranger into the room, is a source of excruciatingannoyance to me--it is well these things should be understood. "

"Certainly, sir, " said Mrs. Hall. "And if I might make so bold asto ask--"

"That I think, is all, " said the stranger, with that quietlyirresistible air of finality he could assume at will. Mrs. Hallreserved her question and sympathy for a better occasion. 

After Mrs. Hall had left the room, he remained standing in front ofthe fire, glaring, so Mr. Henfrey puts it, at the clock-mending. Mr. Henfrey not only took off the hands of the clock, and the face, butextracted the works; and he tried to work in as slow and quiet andunassuming a manner as possible. He worked with the lamp close tohim, and the green shade threw a brilliant light upon his hands, and upon the frame and wheels, and left the rest of the roomshadowy. When he looked up, coloured patches swam in his eyes. Being constitutionally of a curious nature, he had removed theworks--a quite unnecessary proceeding--with the idea of delaying hisdeparture and perhaps falling into conversation with the stranger. But the stranger stood there, perfectly silent and still. So still, it got on Henfrey's nerves. He felt alone in the room and looked up, and there, grey and dim, was the bandaged head and huge blue lensesstaring fixedly, with a mist of green spots drifting in front ofthem. It was so uncanny to Henfrey that for a minute they remainedstaring blankly at one another. Then Henfrey looked down again. Veryuncomfortable position! One would like to say something. Should heremark that the weather was very cold for the time of year?

He looked up as if to take aim with that introductory shot. "Theweather--" he began. 

"Why don't you finish and go?" said the rigid figure, evidently ina state of painfully suppressed rage. "All you've got to do is tofix the hour-hand on its axle. You're simply humbugging--"

"Certainly, sir--one minute more. I overlooked--" and Mr. Henfreyfinished and went. 

But he went feeling excessively annoyed. "Damn it!" said Mr. Henfreyto himself, trudging down the village through the thawing snow; "aman must do a clock at times, sure-ly. "

And again "Can't a man look at you?--Ugly!"

And yet again, "Seemingly not. If the police was wanting you youcouldn't be more wropped and bandaged. "

At Gleeson's corner he saw Hall, who had recently married thestranger's hostess at the "Coach and Horses, " and who now drovethe Iping conveyance, when occasional people required it, toSidderbridge Junction, coming towards him on his return from thatplace. Hall had evidently been "stopping a bit" at Sidderbridge, to judge by his driving. "'Ow do, Teddy?" he said, passing. 

"You got a rum un up home!" said Teddy. 

Hall very sociably pulled up. "What's that?" he asked. 

"Rum-looking customer stopping at the 'Coach and Horses, '" saidTeddy. "My sakes!"

And he proceeded to give Hall a vivid description of his grotesqueguest. "Looks a bit like a disguise, don't it? I'd like to see aman's face if I had him stopping in _my_ place, " said Henfrey. "Butwomen are that trustful--where strangers are concerned. He's tookyour rooms and he ain't even given a name, Hall. "

"You don't say so!" said Hall, who was a man of sluggish apprehension. 

"Yes, " said Teddy. "By the week. Whatever he is, you can't get ridof him under the week. And he's got a lot of luggage comingto-morrow, so he says. Let's hope it won't be stones in boxes, Hall. "

He told Hall how his aunt at Hastings had been swindled by astranger with empty portmanteaux. Altogether he left Hall vaguelysuspicious. "Get up, old girl, " said Hall. "I s'pose I must see'bout this. "

Teddy trudged on his way with his mind considerably relieved. 

Instead of "seeing 'bout it, " however, Hall on his return wasseverely rated by his wife on the length of time he had spent inSidderbridge, and his mild inquiries were answered snappishly andin a manner not to the point. But the seed of suspicion Teddyhad sown germinated in the mind of Mr. Hall in spite of thesediscouragements. "You wim' don't know everything, " said Mr. Hall, resolved to ascertain more about the personality of his guest atthe earliest possible opportunity. And after the stranger had goneto bed, which he did about half-past nine, Mr. Hall went veryaggressively into the parlour and looked very hard at his wife'sfurniture, just to show that the stranger wasn't master there, and scrutinised closely and a little contemptuously a sheet ofmathematical computations the stranger had left. When retiringfor the night he instructed Mrs. Hall to look very closely atthe stranger's luggage when it came next day. 

"You mind you own business, Hall, " said Mrs. Hall, "and I'll mindmine. "

She was all the more inclined to snap at Hall because the strangerwas undoubtedly an unusually strange sort of stranger, and she wasby no means assured about him in her own mind. In the middle of thenight she woke up dreaming of huge white heads like turnips, thatcame trailing after her, at the end of interminable necks, and withvast black eyes. But being a sensible woman, she subdued herterrors and turned over and went to sleep again. 

CHAPTER III

THE THOUSAND AND ONE BOTTLES

So it was that on the twenty-ninth day of February, at the beginningof the thaw, this singular person fell out of infinity into Ipingvillage. Next day his luggage arrived through the slush--and veryremarkable luggage it was. There were a couple of trunks indeed, such as a rational man might need, but in addition there werea box of books--big, fat books, of which some were just in anincomprehensible handwriting--and a dozen or more crates, boxes, and cases, containing objects packed in straw, as it seemed toHall, tugging with a casual curiosity at the straw--glass bottles. The stranger, muffled in hat, coat, gloves, and wrapper, came outimpatiently to meet Fearenside's cart, while Hall was having a wordor so of gossip preparatory to helping being them in. Out he came, not noticing Fearenside's dog, who was sniffing in a _dilettante_spirit at Hall's legs. "Come along with those boxes, " he said. "I've been waiting long enough. "

And he came down the steps towards the tail of the cart as if tolay hands on the smaller crate. 

No sooner had Fearenside's dog caught sight of him, however, thanit began to bristle and growl savagely, and when he rushed down thesteps it gave an undecided hop, and then sprang straight at hishand. "Whup!" cried Hall, jumping back, for he was no hero withdogs, and Fearenside howled, "Lie down!" and snatched his whip. 

They saw the dog's teeth had slipped the hand, heard a kick, saw thedog execute a flanking jump and get home on the stranger's leg, andheard the rip of his trousering. Then the finer end of Fearenside'swhip reached his property, and the dog, yelping with dismay, retreated under the wheels of the waggon. It was all the business ofa swift half-minute. No one spoke, everyone shouted. The strangerglanced swiftly at his torn glove and at his leg, made as if hewould stoop to the latter, then turned and rushed swiftly up thesteps into the inn. They heard him go headlong across the passageand up the uncarpeted stairs to his bedroom. 

"You brute, you!" said Fearenside, climbing off the waggon with hiswhip in his hand, while the dog watched him through the wheel. "Come here, " said Fearenside--"You'd better. "

Hall had stood gaping. "He wuz bit, " said Hall. "I'd better go andsee to en, " and he trotted after the stranger. He met Mrs. Hall inthe passage. "Carrier's darg, " he said "bit en. "

He went straight upstairs, and the stranger's door being ajar, hepushed it open and was entering without any ceremony, being of anaturally sympathetic turn of mind. 

The blind was down and the room dim. He caught a glimpse of a mostsingular thing, what seemed a handless arm waving towards him, anda face of three huge indeterminate spots on white, very like theface of a pale pansy. Then he was struck violently in the chest, hurled back, and the door slammed in his face and locked. It was sorapid that it gave him no time to observe. A waving of indecipherableshapes, a blow, and a concussion. There he stood on the dark littlelanding, wondering what it might be that he had seen. 

A couple of minutes after, he rejoined the little group that hadformed outside the "Coach and Horses. " There was Fearenside tellingabout it all over again for the second time; there was Mrs. Hallsaying his dog didn't have no business to bite her guests; therewas Huxter, the general dealer from over the road, interrogative;and Sandy Wadgers from the forge, judicial; besides women andchildren, all of them saying fatuities: "Wouldn't let en bite_me_, I knows"; "'Tasn't right _have_ such dargs"; "Whad _'e_ bite'n for, than?" and so forth. 

Mr. Hall, staring at them from the steps and listening, found itincredible that he had seen anything so very remarkable happenupstairs. Besides, his vocabulary was altogether too limited toexpress his impressions. 

"He don't want no help, he says, " he said in answer to his wife'sinquiry. "We'd better be a-takin' of his luggage in. "

"He ought to have it cauterised at once, " said Mr. Huxter;"especially if it's at all inflamed. "

"I'd shoot en, that's what I'd do, " said a lady in the group. 

Suddenly the dog began growling again. 

"Come along, " cried an angry voice in the doorway, and there stoodthe muffled stranger with his collar turned up, and his hat-brimbent down. "The sooner you get those things in the better I'll bepleased. " It is stated by an anonymous bystander that his trousersand gloves had been changed. 

"Was you hurt, sir?" said Fearenside. "I'm rare sorry the darg--"

"Not a bit, " said the stranger. "Never broke the skin. Hurry upwith those things. "

He then swore to himself, so Mr. Hall asserts. 

Directly the first crate was, in accordance with his directions, carried into the parlour, the stranger flung himself upon it withextraordinary eagerness, and began to unpack it, scattering thestraw with an utter disregard of Mrs. Hall's carpet. And from it hebegan to produce bottles--little fat bottles containing powders, small and slender bottles containing coloured and white fluids, fluted blue bottles labeled Poison, bottles with round bodies andslender necks, large green-glass bottles, large white-glass bottles, bottles with glass stoppers and frosted labels, bottles with finecorks, bottles with bungs, bottles with wooden caps, wine bottles, salad-oil bottles--putting them in rows on the chiffonnier, on themantel, on the table under the window, round the floor, on thebookshelf--everywhere. The chemist's shop in Bramblehurst could notboast half so many. Quite a sight it was. Crate after crate yieldedbottles, until all six were empty and the table high with straw; theonly things that came out of these crates besides the bottles werea number of test-tubes and a carefully packed balance. 

And directly the crates were unpacked, the stranger went to thewindow and set to work, not troubling in the least about the litterof straw, the fire which had gone out, the box of books outside, nor for the trunks and other luggage that had gone upstairs. 

When Mrs. Hall took his dinner in to him, he was already soabsorbed in his work, pouring little drops out of the bottles intotest-tubes, that he did not hear her until she had swept away thebulk of the straw and put the tray on the table, with some littleemphasis perhaps, seeing the state that the floor was in. Then hehalf turned his head and immediately turned it away again. But shesaw he had removed his glasses; they were beside him on the table, and it seemed to her that his eye sockets were extraordinarilyhollow. He put on his spectacles again, and then turned and facedher. She was about to complain of the straw on the floor when heanticipated her. 

"I wish you wouldn't come in without knocking, " he said in the toneof abnormal exasperation that seemed so characteristic of him. 

"I knocked, but seemingly--"

"Perhaps you did. But in my investigations--my really very urgentand necessary investigations--the slightest disturbance, the jarof a door--I must ask you--"

"Certainly, sir. You can turn the lock if you're like that, youknow. Any time. "

"A very good idea, " said the stranger. 

"This stror, sir, if I might make so bold as to remark--"

"Don't. If the straw makes trouble put it down in the bill. " And hemumbled at her--words suspiciously like curses. 

He was so odd, standing there, so aggressive and explosive, bottlein one hand and test-tube in the other, that Mrs. Hall was quitealarmed. But she was a resolute woman. "In which case, I shouldlike to know, sir, what you consider--"

"A shilling--put down a shilling. Surely a shilling's enough?"

"So be it, " said Mrs. Hall, taking up the table-cloth and beginningto spread it over the table. "If you're satisfied, of course--"

He turned and sat down, with his coat-collar toward her. 

All the afternoon he worked with the door locked and, as Mrs. Halltestifies, for the most part in silence. But once there was aconcussion and a sound of bottles ringing together as though thetable had been hit, and the smash of a bottle flung violently down, and then a rapid pacing athwart the room. Fearing "something wasthe matter, " she went to the door and listened, not caring toknock. 

"I can't go on, " he was raving. "I _can't_ go on. Three hundredthousand, four hundred thousand! The huge multitude! Cheated! Allmy life it may take me! ... Patience! Patience indeed! ... Fool!fool!"

There was a noise of hobnails on the bricks in the bar, and Mrs. Hall had very reluctantly to leave the rest of his soliloquy. When she returned the room was silent again, save for the faintcrepitation of his chair and the occasional clink of a bottle. It was all over; the stranger had resumed work. 

When she took in his tea she saw broken glass in the corner of theroom under the concave mirror, and a golden stain that had beencarelessly wiped. She called attention to it. 

"Put it down in the bill, " snapped her visitor. "For God's sakedon't worry me. If there's damage done, put it down in the bill, "and he went on ticking a list in the exercise book before him. 

"I'll tell you something, " said Fearenside, mysteriously. It waslate in the afternoon, and they were in the little beer-shop ofIping Hanger. 

"Well?" said Teddy Henfrey. 

"This chap you're speaking of, what my dog bit. Well--he's black. Leastways, his legs are. I seed through the tear of his trousersand the tear of his glove. You'd have expected a sort of pinky toshow, wouldn't you? Well--there wasn't none. Just blackness. Itell you, he's as black as my hat. "

"My sakes!" said Henfrey. "It's a rummy case altogether. Why, hisnose is as pink as paint!"

"That's true, " said Fearenside. "I knows that. And I tell 'ee whatI'm thinking. That marn's a piebald, Teddy. Black here and whitethere--in patches. And he's ashamed of it. He's a kind of half-breed, and the colour's come off patchy instead of mixing. I've heard ofsuch things before. And it's the common way with horses, as any onecan see. "

CHAPTER IV

MR. CUSS INTERVIEWS THE STRANGER

I have told the circumstances of the stranger's arrival in Ipingwith a certain fulness of detail, in order that the curiousimpression he created may be understood by the reader. Butexcepting two odd incidents, the circumstances of his stay untilthe extraordinary day of the club festival may be passed over verycursorily. There were a number of skirmishes with Mrs. Hall onmatters of domestic discipline, but in every case until late April, when the first signs of penury began, he over-rode her by the easyexpedient of an extra payment. Hall did not like him, and wheneverhe dared he talked of the advisability of getting rid of him; buthe showed his dislike chiefly by concealing it ostentatiously, andavoiding his visitor as much as possible. "Wait till the summer, "said Mrs. Hall sagely, "when the artisks are beginning to come. Then we'll see. He may be a bit overbearing, but bills settledpunctual is bills settled punctual, whatever you'd like to say. "

The stranger did not go to church, and indeed made no differencebetween Sunday and the irreligious days, even in costume. Heworked, as Mrs. Hall thought, very fitfully. Some days he wouldcome down early and be continuously busy. On others he would riselate, pace his room, fretting audibly for hours together, smoke, sleep in the armchair by the fire. Communication with the worldbeyond the village he had none. His temper continued veryuncertain; for the most part his manner was that of a man sufferingunder almost unendurable provocation, and once or twice things weresnapped, torn, crushed, or broken in spasmodic gusts of violence. He seemed under a chronic irritation of the greatest intensity. Hishabit of talking to himself in a low voice grew steadily upon him, but though Mrs. Hall listened conscientiously she could makeneither head nor tail of what she heard. 

He rarely went abroad by daylight, but at twilight he would go outmuffled up invisibly, whether the weather were cold or not, and hechose the loneliest paths and those most overshadowed by trees andbanks. His goggling spectacles and ghastly bandaged face under thepenthouse of his hat, came with a disagreeable suddenness out ofthe darkness upon one or two home-going labourers, and TeddyHenfrey, tumbling out of the "Scarlet Coat" one night, at half-pastnine, was scared shamefully by the stranger's skull-like head (hewas walking hat in hand) lit by the sudden light of the opened inndoor. Such children as saw him at nightfall dreamt of bogies, andit seemed doubtful whether he disliked boys more than they dislikedhim, or the reverse; but there was certainly a vivid enough dislikeon either side. 

It was inevitable that a person of so remarkable an appearance andbearing should form a frequent topic in such a village as Iping. Opinion was greatly divided about his occupation. Mrs. Hall wassensitive on the point. When questioned, she explained verycarefully that he was an "experimental investigator, " goinggingerly over the syllables as one who dreads pitfalls. When askedwhat an experimental investigator was, she would say with a touchof superiority that most educated people knew such things as that, and would thus explain that he "discovered things. " Her visitor hadhad an accident, she said, which temporarily discoloured his faceand hands, and being of a sensitive disposition, he was averse toany public notice of the fact. 

Out of her hearing there was a view largely entertained that he wasa criminal trying to escape from justice by wrapping himself up soas to conceal himself altogether from the eye of the police. Thisidea sprang from the brain of Mr. Teddy Henfrey. No crime of anymagnitude dating from the middle or end of February was known tohave occurred. Elaborated in the imagination of Mr. Gould, theprobationary assistant in the National School, this theory took theform that the stranger was an Anarchist in disguise, preparingexplosives, and he resolved to undertake such detective operationsas his time permitted. These consisted for the most part in lookingvery hard at the stranger whenever they met, or in asking peoplewho had never seen the stranger, leading questions about him. Buthe detected nothing. 

Another school of opinion followed Mr. Fearenside, and eitheraccepted the piebald view or some modification of it; as, forinstance, Silas Durgan, who was heard to assert that "if he chosesto show enself at fairs he'd make his fortune in no time, " andbeing a bit of a theologian, compared the stranger to the man withthe one talent. Yet another view explained the entire matter byregarding the stranger as a harmless lunatic. That had theadvantage of accounting for everything straight away. 

Between these main groups there were waverers and compromisers. Sussex folk have few superstitions, and it was only after theevents of early April that the thought of the supernatural wasfirst whispered in the village. Even then it was only creditedamong the women folk. 

But whatever they thought of him, people in Iping, on the whole, agreed in disliking him. His irritability, though it might havebeen comprehensible to an urban brain-worker, was an amazing thingto these quiet Sussex villagers. The frantic gesticulations theysurprised now and then, the headlong pace after nightfall thatswept him upon them round quiet corners, the inhuman bludgeoningof all tentative advances of curiosity, the taste for twilightthat led to the closing of doors, the pulling down of blinds, the extinction of candles and lamps--who could agree with suchgoings on? They drew aside as he passed down the village, and whenhe had gone by, young humourists would up with coat-collars anddown with hat-brims, and go pacing nervously after him in imitationof his occult bearing. There was a song popular at that time called"The Bogey Man". Miss Statchell sang it at the schoolroom concert(in aid of the church lamps), and thereafter whenever one or two ofthe villagers were gathered together and the stranger appeared, abar or so of this tune, more or less sharp or flat, was whistled inthe midst of them. Also belated little children would call "BogeyMan!" after him, and make off tremulously elated. 

Cuss, the general practitioner, was devoured by curiosity. Thebandages excited his professional interest, the report of thethousand and one bottles aroused his jealous regard. All throughApril and May he coveted an opportunity of talking to the stranger, and at last, towards Whitsuntide, he could stand it no longer, buthit upon the subscription-list for a village nurse as an excuse. Hewas surprised to find that Mr. Hall did not know his guest's name. "He give a name, " said Mrs. Hall--an assertion which was quiteunfounded--"but I didn't rightly hear it. " She thought it seemedso silly not to know the man's name. 

Cuss rapped at the parlour door and entered. There was a fairlyaudible imprecation from within. "Pardon my intrusion, " said Cuss, and then the door closed and cut Mrs. Hall off from the rest ofthe conversation. 

She could hear the murmur of voices for the next ten minutes, thena cry of surprise, a stirring of feet, a chair flung aside, a barkof laughter, quick steps to the door, and Cuss appeared, his facewhite, his eyes staring over his shoulder. He left the door openbehind him, and without looking at her strode across the hall andwent down the steps, and she heard his feet hurrying along theroad. He carried his hat in his hand. She stood behind the door, looking at the open door of the parlour. Then she heard thestranger laughing quietly, and then his footsteps came across theroom. She could not see his face where she stood. The parlour doorslammed, and the place was silent again. 

Cuss went straight up the village to Bunting the vicar. "Am I mad?"Cuss began abruptly, as he entered the shabby little study. "Do Ilook like an insane person?"

"What's happened?" said the vicar, putting the ammonite on theloose sheets of his forth-coming sermon. 

"That chap at the inn--"

"Well?"

"Give me something to drink, " said Cuss, and he sat down. 

When his nerves had been steadied by a glass of cheap sherry--theonly drink the good vicar had available--he told him of theinterview he had just had. "Went in, " he gasped, "and began todemand a subscription for that Nurse Fund. He'd stuck his hands inhis pockets as I came in, and he sat down lumpily in his chair. Sniffed. I told him I'd heard he took an interest in scientificthings. He said yes. Sniffed again. Kept on sniffing all the time;evidently recently caught an infernal cold. No wonder, wrapped uplike that! I developed the nurse idea, and all the while kept myeyes open. Bottles--chemicals--everywhere. Balance, test-tubesin stands, and a smell of--evening primrose. Would he subscribe?Said he'd consider it. Asked him, point-blank, was he researching. Said he was. A long research? Got quite cross. 'A damnable longresearch, ' said he, blowing the cork out, so to speak. 'Oh, ' saidI. And out came the grievance. The man was just on the boil, and myquestion boiled him over. He had been given a prescription, mostvaluable prescription--what for he wouldn't say. Was it medical?'Damn you! What are you fishing after?' I apologised. Dignifiedsniff and cough. He resumed. He'd read it. Five ingredients. Put itdown; turned his head. Draught of air from window lifted the paper. Swish, rustle. He was working in a room with an open fireplace, hesaid. Saw a flicker, and there was the prescription burning andlifting chimneyward. Rushed towards it just as it whisked up thechimney. So! Just at that point, to illustrate his story, out camehis arm. "

"Well?"

"No hand--just an empty sleeve. Lord! I thought, _that's_ adeformity! Got a cork arm, I suppose, and has taken it off. Then, Ithought, there's something odd in that. What the devil keeps thatsleeve up and open, if there's nothing in it? There was nothing init, I tell you. Nothing down it, right down to the joint. I couldsee right down it to the elbow, and there was a glimmer of lightshining through a tear of the cloth. 'Good God!' I said. Then hestopped. Stared at me with those black goggles of his, and thenat his sleeve. "

"Well?"

"That's all. He never said a word; just glared, and put his sleeveback in his pocket quickly. 'I was saying, ' said he, 'that therewas the prescription burning, wasn't I?' Interrogative cough. 'How the devil, ' said I, 'can you move an empty sleeve like that?''Empty sleeve?' 'Yes, ' said I, 'an empty sleeve. '

"'It's an empty sleeve, is it? You saw it was an empty sleeve?' Hestood up right away. I stood up too. He came towards me in threevery slow steps, and stood quite close. Sniffed venomously. Ididn't flinch, though I'm hanged if that bandaged knob of his, andthose blinkers, aren't enough to unnerve any one, coming quietlyup to you. 

"'You said it was an empty sleeve?' he said. 'Certainly, ' I said. At staring and saying nothing a barefaced man, unspectacled, startsscratch. Then very quietly he pulled his sleeve out of his pocketagain, and raised his arm towards me as though he would show it tome again. He did it very, very slowly. I looked at it. Seemed anage. 'Well?' said I, clearing my throat, 'there's nothing in it. '

"Had to say something. I was beginning to feel frightened. I couldsee right down it. He extended it straight towards me, slowly, slowly--just like that--until the cuff was six inches from myface. Queer thing to see an empty sleeve come at you like that!And then--"

"Well?"

"Something--exactly like a finger and thumb it felt--nipped mynose. "

Bunting began to laugh. 

"There wasn't anything there!" said Cuss, his voice running up intoa shriek at the "there. " "It's all very well for you to laugh, butI tell you I was so startled, I hit his cuff hard, and turnedaround, and cut out of the room--I left him--"

Cuss stopped. There was no mistaking the sincerity of his panic. He turned round in a helpless way and took a second glass of theexcellent vicar's very inferior sherry. "When I hit his cuff, " saidCuss, "I tell you, it felt exactly like hitting an arm. And therewasn't an arm! There wasn't the ghost of an arm!"

Mr. Bunting thought it over. He looked suspiciously at Cuss. "It'sa most remarkable story, " he said. He looked very wise and graveindeed. "It's really, " said Mr. Bunting with judicial emphasis, "amost remarkable story. "

CHAPTER V

THE BURGLARY AT THE VICARAGE

The facts of the burglary at the vicarage came to us chieflythrough the medium of the vicar and his wife. It occurred in thesmall hours of Whit Monday, the day devoted in Iping to the Clubfestivities. Mrs. Bunting, it seems, woke up suddenly in thestillness that comes before the dawn, with the strong impressionthat the door of their bedroom had opened and closed. She did notarouse her husband at first, but sat up in bed listening. She thendistinctly heard the pad, pad, pad of bare feet coming out of theadjoining dressing-room and walking along the passage towards thestaircase. As soon as she felt assured of this, she aroused theRev. Mr. Bunting as quietly as possible. He did not strike a light, but putting on his spectacles, her dressing-gown and his bathslippers, he went out on the landing to listen. He heard quitedistinctly a fumbling going on at his study desk down-stairs, andthen a violent sneeze. 

At that he returned to his bedroom, armed himself with the mostobvious weapon, the poker, and descended the staircase asnoiselessly as possible. Mrs. Bunting came out on the landing. 

The hour was about four, and the ultimate darkness of the night waspast. There was a faint shimmer of light in the hall, but the studydoorway yawned impenetrably black. Everything was still except thefaint creaking of the stairs under Mr. Bunting's tread, and theslight movements in the study. Then something snapped, the drawerwas opened, and there was a rustle of papers. Then came animprecation, and a match was struck and the study was flooded withyellow light. Mr. Bunting was now in the hall, and through thecrack of the door he could see the desk and the open drawer and acandle burning on the desk. But the robber he could not see. Hestood there in the hall undecided what to do, and Mrs. Bunting, herface white and intent, crept slowly downstairs after him. One thingkept Mr. Bunting's courage; the persuasion that this burglar was aresident in the village. 

They heard the chink of money, and realised that the robber hadfound the housekeeping reserve of gold--two pounds ten in halfsovereigns altogether. At that sound Mr. Bunting was nerved toabrupt action. Gripping the poker firmly, he rushed into the room, closely followed by Mrs. Bunting. "Surrender!" cried Mr. Bunting, fiercely, and then stooped amazed. Apparently the room wasperfectly empty. 

Yet their conviction that they had, that very moment, heard somebodymoving in the room had amounted to a certainty. For half a minute, perhaps, they stood gaping, then Mrs. Bunting went across the roomand looked behind the screen, while Mr. Bunting, by a kindredimpulse, peered under the desk. Then Mrs. Bunting turned back thewindow-curtains, and Mr. Bunting looked up the chimney and probed itwith the poker. Then Mrs. Bunting scrutinised the waste-paper basketand Mr. Bunting opened the lid of the coal-scuttle. Then they cameto a stop and stood with eyes interrogating each other. 

"I could have sworn--" said Mr. Bunting. 

"The candle!" said Mr. Bunting. "Who lit the candle?"

"The drawer!" said Mrs. Bunting. "And the money's gone!"

She went hastily to the doorway. 

"Of all the strange occurrences--"

There was a violent sneeze in the passage. They rushed out, and asthey did so the kitchen door slammed. "Bring the candle, " said Mr. Bunting, and led the way. They both heard a sound of bolts beinghastily shot back. 

As he opened the kitchen door he saw through the scullery thatthe back door was just opening, and the faint light of early dawndisplayed the dark masses of the garden beyond. He is certain thatnothing went out of the door. It opened, stood open for a moment, and then closed with a slam. As it did so, the candle Mrs. Buntingwas carrying from the study flickered and flared. It was a minuteor more before they entered the kitchen. 

The place was empty. They refastened the back door, examined thekitchen, pantry, and scullery thoroughly, and at last went downinto the cellar. There was not a soul to be found in the house, search as they would. 

Daylight found the vicar and his wife, a quaintly-costumed littlecouple, still marvelling about on their own ground floor by theunnecessary light of a guttering candle. 

CHAPTER VI

THE FURNITURE THAT WENT MAD

Now it happened that in the early hours of Whit Monday, beforeMillie was hunted out for the day, Mr. Hall and Mrs. Hall both roseand went noiselessly down into the cellar. Their business there wasof a private nature, and had something to do with the specificgravity of their beer. They had hardly entered the cellar when Mrs. Hall found she had forgotten to bring down a bottle of sarsaparillafrom their joint-room. As she was the expert and principal operatorin this affair, Hall very properly went upstairs for it. 

On the landing he was surprised to see that the stranger's door wasajar. He went on into his own room and found the bottle as he hadbeen directed. 

But returning with the bottle, he noticed that the bolts of thefront door had been shot back, that the door was in fact simply onthe latch. And with a flash of inspiration he connected this withthe stranger's room upstairs and the suggestions of Mr. TeddyHenfrey. He distinctly remembered holding the candle while Mrs. Hall shot these bolts overnight. At the sight he stopped, gaping, then with the bottle still in his hand went upstairs again. Herapped at the stranger's door. There was no answer. He rappedagain; then pushed the door wide open and entered. 

It was as he expected. The bed, the room also, was empty. And whatwas stranger, even to his heavy intelligence, on the bedroom chairand along the rail of the bed were scattered the garments, the onlygarments so far as he knew, and the bandages of their guest. Hisbig slouch hat even was cocked jauntily over the bed-post. 

As Hall stood there he heard his wife's voice coming out of thedepth of the cellar, with that rapid telescoping of the syllablesand interrogative cocking up of the final words to a high note, by which the West Sussex villager is wont to indicate a briskimpatience. "George! You gart whad a wand?"

At that he turned and hurried down to her. "Janny, " he said, overthe rail of the cellar steps, "'tas the truth what Henfrey sez. 'E's not in uz room, 'e en't. And the front door's onbolted. "

At first Mrs. Hall did not understand, and as soon as she did sheresolved to see the empty room for herself. Hall, still holding thebottle, went first. "If 'e en't there, " he said, "'is close are. And what's 'e doin' 'ithout 'is close, then? 'Tas a most curiousbusiness. "

As they came up the cellar steps they both, it was afterwardsascertained, fancied they heard the front door open and shut, butseeing it closed and nothing there, neither said a word to the otherabout it at the time. Mrs. Hall passed her husband in the passageand ran on first upstairs. Someone sneezed on the staircase. Hall, following six steps behind, thought that he heard her sneeze. She, going on first, was under the impression that Hall was sneezing. She flung open the door and stood regarding the room. "Of all thecurious!" she said. 

She heard a sniff close behind her head as it seemed, and turning, was surprised to see Hall a dozen feet off on the topmost stair. But in another moment he was beside her. She bent forward and puther hand on the pillow and then under the clothes. 

"Cold, " she said. "He's been up this hour or more. "

As she did so, a most extraordinary thing happened. The bed-clothesgathered themselves together, leapt up suddenly into a sort of peak, and then jumped headlong over the bottom rail. It was exactly as ifa hand had clutched them in the centre and flung them aside. Immediately after, the stranger's hat hopped off the bed-post, described a whirling flight in the air through the better part ofa circle, and then dashed straight at Mrs. Hall's face. Then asswiftly came the sponge from the washstand; and then the chair, flinging the stranger's coat and trousers carelessly aside, andlaughing drily in a voice singularly like the stranger's, turneditself up with its four legs at Mrs. Hall, seemed to take aim at herfor a moment, and charged at her. She screamed and turned, and thenthe chair legs came gently but firmly against her back and impelledher and Hall out of the room. The door slammed violently and waslocked. The chair and bed seemed to be executing a dance of triumphfor a moment, and then abruptly everything was still. 

Mrs. Hall was left almost in a fainting condition in Mr. Hall'sarms on the landing. It was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. Hall and Millie, who had been roused by her scream of alarm, succeeded in getting her downstairs, and applying the restorativescustomary in such cases. 

"'Tas sperits, " said Mrs. Hall. "I know 'tas sperits. I've read inpapers of en. Tables and chairs leaping and dancing... "

"Take a drop more, Janny, " said Hall. "'Twill steady ye. "

"Lock him out, " said Mrs. Hall. "Don't let him come in again. I half guessed--I might ha' known. With them goggling eyes andbandaged head, and never going to church of a Sunday. And allthey bottles--more'n it's right for any one to have. He's put thesperits into the furniture.... My good old furniture! 'Twas inthat very chair my poor dear mother used to sit when I was alittle girl. To think it should rise up against me now!"

"Just a drop more, Janny, " said Hall. "Your nerves is all upset. "

They sent Millie across the street through the golden five o'clocksunshine to rouse up Mr. Sandy Wadgers, the blacksmith. Mr. Hall's compliments and the furniture upstairs was behaving mostextraordinary. Would Mr. Wadgers come round? He was a knowing man, was Mr. Wadgers, and very resourceful. He took quite a grave viewof the case. "Arm darmed if thet ent witchcraft, " was the view ofMr. Sandy Wadgers. "You warnt horseshoes for such gentry as he. "

He came round greatly concerned. They wanted him to lead the wayupstairs to the room, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry. Hepreferred to talk in the passage. Over the way Huxter's apprenticecame out and began taking down the shutters of the tobacco window. He was called over to join the discussion. Mr. Huxter naturallyfollowed over in the course of a few minutes. The Anglo-Saxongenius for parliamentary government asserted itself; there was agreat deal of talk and no decisive action. "Let's have the factsfirst, " insisted Mr. Sandy Wadgers. "Let's be sure we'd be actingperfectly right in bustin' that there door open. A door onbust isalways open to bustin', but ye can't onbust a door once you'vebusted en. "

And suddenly and most wonderfully the door of the room upstairsopened of its own accord, and as they looked up in amazement, they saw descending the stairs the muffled figure of the strangerstaring more blackly and blankly than ever with those unreasonablylarge blue glass eyes of his. He came down stiffly and slowly, staring all the time; he walked across the passage staring, thenstopped. 

"Look there!" he said, and their eyes followed the direction of hisgloved finger and saw a bottle of sarsaparilla hard by the cellardoor. Then he entered the parlour, and suddenly, swiftly, viciously, slammed the door in their faces. 

Not a word was spoken until the last echoes of the slam had diedaway. They stared at one another. "Well, if that don't lickeverything!" said Mr. Wadgers, and left the alternative unsaid. 

"I'd go in and ask'n 'bout it, " said Wadgers, to Mr. Hall. "I'dd'mand an explanation. "

It took some time to bring the landlady's husband up to that pitch. At last he rapped, opened the door, and got as far as, "Excuse me--"

"Go to the devil!" said the stranger in a tremendous voice, and"Shut that door after you. " So that brief interview terminated. 

CHAPTER VII

THE UNVEILING OF THE STRANGER

The stranger went into the little parlour of the "Coach and Horses"about half-past five in the morning, and there he remained untilnear midday, the blinds down, the door shut, and none, after Hall'srepulse, venturing near him. 

All that time he must have fasted. Thrice he rang his bell, thethird time furiously and continuously, but no one answered him. "Him and his 'go to the devil' indeed!" said Mrs. Hall. Presentlycame an imperfect rumour of the burglary at the vicarage, and twoand two were put together. Hall, assisted by Wadgers, went off tofind Mr. Shuckleforth, the magistrate, and take his advice. No oneventured upstairs. How the stranger occupied himself is unknown. Now and then he would stride violently up and down, and twice camean outburst of curses, a tearing of paper, and a violent smashingof bottles. 

The little group of scared but curious people increased. Mrs. Huxtercame over; some gay young fellows resplendent in black ready-madejackets and _pique_ paper ties--for it was Whit Monday--joinedthe group with confused interrogations. Young Archie Harkerdistinguished himself by going up the yard and trying to peepunder the window-blinds. He could see nothing, but gave reasonfor supposing that he did, and others of the Iping youthpresently joined him. 

It was the finest of all possible Whit Mondays, and down thevillage street stood a row of nearly a dozen booths, a shootinggallery, and on the grass by the forge were three yellow andchocolate waggons and some picturesque strangers of both sexesputting up a cocoanut shy. The gentlemen wore blue jerseys, theladies white aprons and quite fashionable hats with heavy plumes. Wodger, of the "Purple Fawn, " and Mr. Jaggers, the cobbler, whoalso sold old second-hand ordinary bicycles, were stretching astring of union-jacks and royal ensigns (which had originallycelebrated the first Victorian Jubilee) across the road. 

And inside, in the artificial darkness of the parlour, into whichonly one thin jet of sunlight penetrated, the stranger, hungry wemust suppose, and fearful, hidden in his uncomfortable hot wrappings, pored through his dark glasses upon his paper or chinked his dirtylittle bottles, and occasionally swore savagely at the boys, audibleif invisible, outside the windows. In the corner by the fireplacelay the fragments of half a dozen smashed bottles, and a pungenttwang of chlorine tainted the air. So much we know from what washeard at the time and from what was subsequently seen in the room. 

About noon he suddenly opened his parlour door and stood glaringfixedly at the three or four people in the bar. "Mrs. Hall, " hesaid. Somebody went sheepishly and called for Mrs. Hall. 

Mrs. Hall appeared after an interval, a little short of breath, butall the fiercer for that. Hall was still out. She had deliberatedover this scene, and she came holding a little tray with anunsettled bill upon it. "Is it your bill you're wanting, sir?" shesaid. 

"Why wasn't my breakfast laid? Why haven't you prepared my mealsand answered my bell? Do you think I live without eating?"

"Why isn't my bill paid?" said Mrs. Hall. "That's what I want toknow. "

"I told you three days ago I was awaiting a remittance--"

"I told you two days ago I wasn't going to await no remittances. You can't grumble if your breakfast waits a bit, if my bill's beenwaiting these five days, can you?"

The stranger swore briefly but vividly. 

"Nar, nar!" from the bar. 

"And I'd thank you kindly, sir, if you'd keep your swearing toyourself, sir, " said Mrs. Hall. 

The stranger stood looking more like an angry diving-helmet thanever. It was universally felt in the bar that Mrs. Hall had thebetter of him. His next words showed as much. 

"Look here, my good woman--" he began. 

"Don't 'good woman' _me_, " said Mrs. Hall. 

"I've told you my remittance hasn't come. "

"Remittance indeed!" said Mrs. Hall. 

"Still, I daresay in my pocket--"

"You told me three days ago that you hadn't anything but asovereign's worth of silver upon you. "

"Well, I've found some more--"

"'Ul-lo!" from the bar. 

"I wonder where you found it, " said Mrs. Hall. 

That seemed to annoy the stranger very much. He stamped his foot. "What do you mean?" he said. 

"That I wonder where you found it, " said Mrs. Hall. "And before Itake any bills or get any breakfasts, or do any such thingswhatsoever, you got to tell me one or two things I don't understand, and what nobody don't understand, and what everybody is very anxiousto understand. I want to know what you been doing t'my chairupstairs, and I want to know how 'tis your room was empty, and howyou got in again. Them as stops in this house comes in by thedoors--that's the rule of the house, and that you _didn't_ do, andwhat I want to know is how you _did_ come in. And I want to know--"

Suddenly the stranger raised his gloved hands clenched, stamped hisfoot, and said, "Stop!" with such extraordinary violence that hesilenced her instantly. 

"You don't understand, " he said, "who I am or what I am. I'll showyou. By Heaven! I'll show you. " Then he put his open palm over hisface and withdrew it. The centre of his face became a black cavity. "Here, " he said. He stepped forward and handed Mrs. Hall somethingwhich she, staring at his metamorphosed face, accepted automatically. Then, when she saw what it was, she screamed loudly, dropped it, andstaggered back. The nose--it was the stranger's nose! pink andshining--rolled on the floor. 

Then he removed his spectacles, and everyone in the bar gasped. Hetook off his hat, and with a violent gesture tore at his whiskersand bandages. For a moment they resisted him. A flash of horribleanticipation passed through the bar. "Oh, my Gard!" said some one. Then off they came. 

It was worse than anything. Mrs. Hall, standing open-mouthed andhorror-struck, shrieked at what she saw, and made for the door ofthe house. Everyone began to move. They were prepared for scars, disfigurements, tangible horrors, but nothing! The bandages andfalse hair flew across the passage into the bar, making ahobbledehoy jump to avoid them. Everyone tumbled on everyone elsedown the steps. For the man who stood there shouting some incoherentexplanation, was a solid gesticulating figure up to the coat-collarof him, and then--nothingness, no visible thing at all!

People down the village heard shouts and shrieks, and looking upthe street saw the "Coach and Horses" violently firing out itshumanity. They saw Mrs. Hall fall down and Mr. Teddy Henfrey jumpto avoid tumbling over her, and then they heard the frightfulscreams of Millie, who, emerging suddenly from the kitchen at thenoise of the tumult, had come upon the headless stranger frombehind. These increased suddenly. 

Forthwith everyone all down the street, the sweetstuff seller, cocoanut shy proprietor and his assistant, the swing man, littleboys and girls, rustic dandies, smart wenches, smocked eldersand aproned gipsies--began running towards the inn, and in amiraculously short space of time a crowd of perhaps forty people, and rapidly increasing, swayed and hooted and inquired andexclaimed and suggested, in front of Mrs. Hall's establishment. Everyone seemed eager to talk at once, and the result was Babel. Asmall group supported Mrs. Hall, who was picked up in a state ofcollapse. There was a conference, and the incredible evidence of avociferous eye-witness. "O Bogey!" "What's he been doin', then?""Ain't hurt the girl, 'as 'e?" "Run at en with a knife, I believe. ""No 'ed, I tell ye. I don't mean no manner of speaking. I mean _marn'ithout a 'ed_!" "Narnsense! 'tis some conjuring trick. " "Fetchedoff 'is wrapping, 'e did--"

In its struggles to see in through the open door, the crowd formeditself into a straggling wedge, with the more adventurous apexnearest the inn. "He stood for a moment, I heerd the gal scream, and he turned. I saw her skirts whisk, and he went after her. Didn't take ten seconds. Back he comes with a knife in uz hand anda loaf; stood just as if he was staring. Not a moment ago. Went inthat there door. I tell 'e, 'e ain't gart no 'ed at all. You justmissed en--"

There was a disturbance behind, and the speaker stopped to stepaside for a little procession that was marching very resolutelytowards the house; first Mr. Hall, very red and determined, thenMr. Bobby Jaffers, the village constable, and then the wary Mr. Wadgers. They had come now armed with a warrant. 

People shouted conflicting information of the recent circumstances. "'Ed or no 'ed, " said Jaffers, "I got to 'rest en, and 'rest en I_will_. "

Mr. Hall marched up the steps, marched straight to the door of theparlour and flung it open. "Constable, " he said, "do your duty. "

Jaffers marched in. Hall next, Wadgers last. They saw in the dimlight the headless figure facing them, with a gnawed crust of breadin one gloved hand and a chunk of cheese in the other. 

"That's him!" said Hall. 

"What the devil's this?" came in a tone of angry expostulation fromabove the collar of the figure. 

"You're a damned rum customer, mister, " said Mr. Jaffers. "But 'edor no 'ed, the warrant says 'body, ' and duty's duty--"

"Keep off!" said the figure, starting back. 

Abruptly he whipped down the bread and cheese, and Mr. Hall justgrasped the knife on the table in time to save it. Off came thestranger's left glove and was slapped in Jaffers' face. In anothermoment Jaffers, cutting short some statement concerning a warrant, had gripped him by the handless wrist and caught his invisiblethroat. He got a sounding kick on the shin that made him shout, buthe kept his grip. Hall sent the knife sliding along the table toWadgers, who acted as goal-keeper for the offensive, so to speak, and then stepped forward as Jaffers and the stranger swayed andstaggered towards him, clutching and hitting in. A chair stood inthe way, and went aside with a crash as they came down together. 

"Get the feet, " said Jaffers between his teeth. 

Mr. Hall, endeavouring to act on instructions, received a soundingkick in the ribs that disposed of him for a moment, and Mr. Wadgers, seeing the decapitated stranger had rolled over and gotthe upper side of Jaffers, retreated towards the door, knife inhand, and so collided with Mr. Huxter and the Sidderbridge cartercoming to the rescue of law and order. At the same moment down camethree or four bottles from the chiffonnier and shot a web ofpungency into the air of the room. 

"I'll surrender, " cried the stranger, though he had Jaffers down, and in another moment he stood up panting, a strange figure, headless and handless--for he had pulled off his right glove nowas well as his left. "It's no good, " he said, as if sobbing forbreath. 

It was the strangest thing in the world to hear that voice comingas if out of empty space, but the Sussex peasants are perhaps themost matter-of-fact people under the sun. Jaffers got up also andproduced a pair of handcuffs. Then he stared. 

"I say!" said Jaffers, brought up short by a dim realization of theincongruity of the whole business, "Darn it! Can't use 'em as I cansee. "

The stranger ran his arm down his waistcoat, and as if by a miraclethe buttons to which his empty sleeve pointed became undone. Thenhe said something about his shin, and stooped down. He seemed to befumbling with his shoes and socks. 

"Why!" said Huxter, suddenly, "that's not a man at all. It's justempty clothes. Look! You can see down his collar and the linings ofhis clothes. I could put my arm--"

He extended his hand; it seemed to meet something in mid-air, andhe drew it back with a sharp exclamation. "I wish you'd keep yourfingers out of my eye, " said the aerial voice, in a tone of savageexpostulation. "The fact is, I'm all here--head, hands, legs, andall the rest of it, but it happens I'm invisible. It's a confoundednuisance, but I am. That's no reason why I should be poked topieces by every stupid bumpkin in Iping, is it?"

The suit of clothes, now all unbuttoned and hanging loosely uponits unseen supports, stood up, arms akimbo. 

Several other of the men folks had now entered the room, so that itwas closely crowded. "Invisible, eh?" said Huxter, ignoring thestranger's abuse. "Who ever heard the likes of that?"

"It's strange, perhaps, but it's not a crime. Why am I assaulted bya policeman in this fashion?"

"Ah! that's a different matter, " said Jaffers. "No doubt you are abit difficult to see in this light, but I got a warrant and it'sall correct. What I'm after ain't no invisibility, --it's burglary. There's a house been broke into and money took. "

"Well?"

"And circumstances certainly point--"

"Stuff and nonsense!" said the Invisible Man. 

"I hope so, sir; but I've got my instructions. "

"Well, " said the stranger, "I'll come. I'll _come_. But nohandcuffs. "

"It's the regular thing, " said Jaffers. 

"No handcuffs, " stipulated the stranger. 

"Pardon me, " said Jaffers. 

Abruptly the figure sat down, and before any one could realise waswas being done, the slippers, socks, and trousers had been kickedoff under the table. Then he sprang up again and flung off his coat. 

"Here, stop that, " said Jaffers, suddenly realising what washappening. He gripped at the waistcoat; it struggled, and the shirtslipped out of it and left it limply and empty in his hand. "Holdhim!" said Jaffers, loudly. "Once he gets the things off--"

"Hold him!" cried everyone, and there was a rush at the flutteringwhite shirt which was now all that was visible of the stranger. 

The shirt-sleeve planted a shrewd blow in Hall's face that stoppedhis open-armed advance, and sent him backward into old Toothsomethe sexton, and in another moment the garment was lifted up andbecame convulsed and vacantly flapping about the arms, even as ashirt that is being thrust over a man's head. Jaffers clutched atit, and only helped to pull it off; he was struck in the mouth outof the air, and incontinently threw his truncheon and smote TeddyHenfrey savagely upon the crown of his head. 

"Look out!" said everybody, fencing at random and hitting atnothing. "Hold him! Shut the door! Don't let him loose! I gotsomething! Here he is!" A perfect Babel of noises they made. Everybody, it seemed, was being hit all at once, and Sandy Wadgers, knowing as ever and his wits sharpened by a frightful blow in thenose, reopened the door and led the rout. The others, followingincontinently, were jammed for a moment in the corner by thedoorway. The hitting continued. Phipps, the Unitarian, had a fronttooth broken, and Henfrey was injured in the cartilage of his ear. Jaffers was struck under the jaw, and, turning, caught at somethingthat intervened between him and Huxter in the melee, and preventedtheir coming together. He felt a muscular chest, and in anothermoment the whole mass of struggling, excited men shot out into thecrowded hall. 

"I got him!" shouted Jaffers, choking and reeling through them all, and wrestling with purple face and swelling veins against hisunseen enemy. 

Men staggered right and left as the extraordinary conflict swayedswiftly towards the house door, and went spinning down thehalf-dozen steps of the inn. Jaffers cried in a strangledvoice--holding tight, nevertheless, and making play with hisknee--spun around, and fell heavily undermost with his head onthe gravel. Only then did his fingers relax. 

There were excited cries of "Hold him!" "Invisible!" and so forth, and a young fellow, a stranger in the place whose name did not cometo light, rushed in at once, caught something, missed his hold, and fell over the constable's prostrate body. Half-way across theroad a woman screamed as something pushed by her; a dog, kickedapparently, yelped and ran howling into Huxter's yard, and withthat the transit of the Invisible Man was accomplished. For a spacepeople stood amazed and gesticulating, and then came panic, andscattered them abroad through the village as a gust scatters deadleaves. 

But Jaffers lay quite still, face upward and knees bent, at the footof the steps of the inn. 

CHAPTER VIII

IN TRANSIT

The eighth chapter is exceedingly brief, and relates that Gibbons, the amateur naturalist of the district, while lying out on thespacious open downs without a soul within a couple of miles of him, as he thought, and almost dozing, heard close to him the sound asof a man coughing, sneezing, and then swearing savagely to himself;and looking, beheld nothing. Yet the voice was indisputable. Itcontinued to swear with that breadth and variety that distinguishesthe swearing of a cultivated man. It grew to a climax, diminishedagain, and died away in the distance, going as it seemed to him inthe direction of Adderdean. It lifted to a spasmodic sneeze andended. Gibbons had heard nothing of the morning's occurrences, butthe phenomenon was so striking and disturbing that his philosophicaltranquillity vanished; he got up hastily, and hurried down thesteepness of the hill towards the village, as fast as he could go. 

CHAPTER IX

MR. THOMAS MARVEL

You must picture Mr. Thomas Marvel as a person of copious, flexiblevisage, a nose of cylindrical protrusion, a liquorish, ample, fluctuating mouth, and a beard of bristling eccentricity. His figureinclined to embonpoint; his short limbs accentuated this inclination. He wore a furry silk hat, and the frequent substitution of twine andshoe-laces for buttons, apparent at critical points of his costume, marked a man essentially bachelor. 

Mr. Thomas Marvel was sitting with his feet in a ditch by theroadside over the down towards Adderdean, about a mile and a halfout of Iping. His feet, save for socks of irregular open-work, werebare, his big toes were broad, and pricked like the ears of awatchful dog. In a leisurely manner--he did everything in aleisurely manner--he was contemplating trying on a pair of boots. They were the soundest boots he had come across for a long time, buttoo large for him; whereas the ones he had were, in dry weather, avery comfortable fit, but too thin-soled for damp. Mr. Thomas Marvelhated roomy shoes, but then he hated damp. He had never properlythought out which he hated most, and it was a pleasant day, andthere was nothing better to do. So he put the four shoes in agraceful group on the turf and looked at them. And seeing them thereamong the grass and springing agrimony, it suddenly occurred to himthat both pairs were exceedingly ugly to see. He was not at allstartled by a voice behind him. 

"They're boots, anyhow, " said the Voice. 

"They are--charity boots, " said Mr. Thomas Marvel, with his headon one side regarding them distastefully; "and which is the ugliestpair in the whole blessed universe, I'm darned if I know!"

"H'm, " said the Voice. 

"I've worn worse--in fact, I've worn none. But none so owdaciousugly--if you'll allow the expression. I've been cadging boots--inparticular--for days. Because I was sick of _them_. They're soundenough, of course. But a gentleman on tramp sees such a thunderinglot of his boots. And if you'll believe me, I've raised nothing inthe whole blessed country, try as I would, but _them_. Look at 'em!And a good country for boots, too, in a general way. But it's justmy promiscuous luck. I've got my boots in this country ten years ormore. And then they treat you like this. "

"It's a beast of a country, " said the Voice. "And pigs for people. "

"Ain't it?" said Mr. Thomas Marvel. "Lord! But them boots! It beatsit. "

He turned his head over his shoulder to the right, to look at theboots of his interlocutor with a view to comparisons, and lo! wherethe boots of his interlocutor should have been were neither legsnor boots. He was irradiated by the dawn of a great amazement. "Where _are_ yer?" said Mr. Thomas Marvel over his shoulder andcoming on all fours. He saw a stretch of empty downs with the windswaying the remote green-pointed furze bushes. 

"Am I drunk?" said Mr. Marvel. "Have I had visions? Was I talkingto myself? What the--"

"Don't be alarmed, " said a Voice. 

"None of your ventriloquising _me_, " said Mr. Thomas Marvel, risingsharply to his feet. "Where _are_ yer? Alarmed, indeed!"

"Don't be alarmed, " repeated the Voice. 

"_You'll_ be alarmed in a minute, you silly fool, " said Mr. ThomasMarvel. "Where _are_ yer? Lemme get my mark on yer... 

"Are yer _buried_?" said Mr. Thomas Marvel, after an interval. 

There was no answer. Mr. Thomas Marvel stood bootless and amazed, his jacket nearly thrown off. 

"Peewit, " said a peewit, very remote. 

"Peewit, indeed!" said Mr. Thomas Marvel. "This ain't no time forfoolery. " The down was desolate, east and west, north and south;the road with its shallow ditches and white bordering stakes, ransmooth and empty north and south, and, save for that peewit, theblue sky was empty too. "So help me, " said Mr. Thomas Marvel, shuffling his coat on to his shoulders again. "It's the drink!I might ha' known. "

"It's not the drink, " said the Voice. "You keep your nervessteady. "

"Ow!" said Mr. Marvel, and his face grew white amidst its patches. "It's the drink!" his lips repeated noiselessly. He remained staringabout him, rotating slowly backwards. "I could have _swore_ I hearda voice, " he whispered. 

"Of course you did. "

"It's there again, " said Mr. Marvel, closing his eyes and claspinghis hand on his brow with a tragic gesture. He was suddenly takenby the collar and shaken violently, and left more dazed than ever. "Don't be a fool, " said the Voice. 

"I'm--off--my--blooming--chump, " said Mr. Marvel. "It's no good. It's fretting about them blarsted boots. I'm off my blessed bloomingchump. Or it's spirits. "

"Neither one thing nor the other, " said the Voice. "Listen!"

"Chump, " said Mr. Marvel. 

"One minute, " said the Voice, penetratingly, tremulous withself-control. 

"Well?" said Mr. Thomas Marvel, with a strange feeling of havingbeen dug in the chest by a finger. 

"You think I'm just imagination? Just imagination?"

"What else _can_ you be?" said Mr. Thomas Marvel, rubbing the back ofhis neck. 

"Very well, " said the Voice, in a tone of relief. "Then I'm goingto throw flints at you till you think differently. "

"But where _are_ yer?"

The Voice made no answer. Whizz came a flint, apparently out ofthe air, and missed Mr. Marvel's shoulder by a hair's-breadth. Mr. Marvel, turning, saw a flint jerk up into the air, trace acomplicated path, hang for a moment, and then fling at his feetwith almost invisible rapidity. He was too amazed to dodge. Whizzit came, and ricochetted from a bare toe into the ditch. Mr. ThomasMarvel jumped a foot and howled aloud. Then he started to run, tripped over an unseen obstacle, and came head over heels into asitting position. 

"_Now_, " said the Voice, as a third stone curved upward and hung inthe air above the tramp. "Am I imagination?"

Mr. Marvel by way of reply struggled to his feet, and wasimmediately rolled over again. He lay quiet for a moment. "If youstruggle any more, " said the Voice, "I shall throw the flint atyour head. "

"It's a fair do, " said Mr. Thomas Marvel, sitting up, taking hiswounded toe in hand and fixing his eye on the third missile. "Idon't understand it. Stones flinging themselves. Stones talking. Put yourself down. Rot away. I'm done. "

The third flint fell. 

"It's very simple, " said the Voice. "I'm an invisible man. "

"Tell us something I don't know, " said Mr. Marvel, gasping withpain. "Where you've hid--how you do it--I _don't_ know. I'm beat. "

"That's all, " said the Voice. "I'm invisible. That's what I wantyou to understand. "

"Anyone could see that. There is no need for you to be so confoundedimpatient, mister. _Now_ then. Give us a notion. How are you hid?"

"I'm invisible. That's the great point. And what I want you tounderstand is this--"

"But whereabouts?" interrupted Mr. Marvel. 

"Here! Six yards in front of you. "

"Oh, _come_! I ain't blind. You'll be telling me next you're justthin air. I'm not one of your ignorant tramps--"

"Yes, I am--thin air. You're looking through me. "

"What! Ain't there any stuff to you. _Vox et_--what is it?--jabber. Is it that?"

"I am just a human being--solid, needing food and drink, needingcovering too--But I'm invisible. You see? Invisible. Simple idea. Invisible. "

"What, real like?"

"Yes, real. "

"Let's have a hand of you, " said Marvel, "if you _are_ real. It won'tbe so darn out-of-the-way like, then--_Lord_!" he said, "how you mademe jump!--gripping me like that!"

He felt the hand that had closed round his wrist with his disengagedfingers, and his fingers went timorously up the arm, patted amuscular chest, and explored a bearded face. Marvel's face wasastonishment. 

"I'm dashed!" he said. "If this don't beat cock-fighting! Mostremarkable!--And there I can see a rabbit clean through you, 'arfa mile away! Not a bit of you visible--except--"

He scrutinised the apparently empty space keenly. "You 'aven't beeneatin' bread and cheese?" he asked, holding the invisible arm. 

"You're quite right, and it's not quite assimilated into the system. "

"Ah!" said Mr. Marvel. "Sort of ghostly, though. "

"Of course, all this isn't half so wonderful as you think. "

"It's quite wonderful enough for _my_ modest wants, " said Mr. ThomasMarvel. "Howjer manage it! How the dooce is it done?"

"It's too long a story. And besides--"

"I tell you, the whole business fairly beats me, " said Mr. Marvel. 

"What I want to say at present is this: I need help. I have come tothat--I came upon you suddenly. I was wandering, mad with rage, naked, impotent. I could have murdered. And I saw you--"

"_Lord_!" said Mr. Marvel. 

"I came up behind you--hesitated--went on--"

Mr. Marvel's expression was eloquent. 

"--then stopped. 'Here, ' I said, 'is an outcast like myself. This isthe man for me. ' So I turned back and came to you--you. And--"

"_Lord_!" said Mr. Marvel. "But I'm all in a tizzy. May I ask--Howis it? And what you may be requiring in the way of help?--Invisible!"

"I want you to help me get clothes--and shelter--and then, withother things. I've left them long enough. If you won't--well! Butyou _will--must_. "

"Look here, " said Mr. Marvel. "I'm too flabbergasted. Don't knockme about any more. And leave me go. I must get steady a bit. Andyou've pretty near broken my toe. It's all so unreasonable. Emptydowns, empty sky. Nothing visible for miles except the bosom ofNature. And then comes a voice. A voice out of heaven! And stones!And a fist--Lord!"

"Pull yourself together, " said the Voice, "for you have to do thejob I've chosen for you. "

Mr. Marvel blew out his cheeks, and his eyes were round. 

"I've chosen you, " said the Voice. "You are the only man exceptsome of those fools down there, who knows there is such a thing asan invisible man. You have to be my helper. Help me--and I willdo great things for you. An invisible man is a man of power. " Hestopped for a moment to sneeze violently. 

"But if you betray me, " he said, "if you fail to do as I direct you--"He paused and tapped Mr. Marvel's shoulder smartly. Mr. Marvelgave a yelp of terror at the touch. "I don't want to betray you, "said Mr. Marvel, edging away from the direction of the fingers. "Don't you go a-thinking that, whatever you do. All I want to do isto help you--just tell me what I got to do. (Lord!) Whatever youwant done, that I'm most willing to do. "

CHAPTER X

MR. MARVEL'S VISIT TO IPING

After the first gusty panic had spent itself Iping becameargumentative. Scepticism suddenly reared its head--rather nervousscepticism, not at all assured of its back, but scepticismnevertheless. It is so much easier not to believe in an invisibleman; and those who had actually seen him dissolve into air, or feltthe strength of his arm, could be counted on the fingers of twohands. And of these witnesses Mr. Wadgers was presently missing, having retired impregnably behind the bolts and bars of his ownhouse, and Jaffers was lying stunned in the parlour of the "Coachand Horses. " Great and strange ideas transcending experience oftenhave less effect upon men and women than smaller, more tangibleconsiderations. Iping was gay with bunting, and everybody was ingala dress. Whit Monday had been looked forward to for a month ormore. By the afternoon even those who believed in the Unseen werebeginning to resume their little amusements in a tentative fashion, on the supposition that he had quite gone away, and with thesceptics he was already a jest. But people, sceptics and believersalike, were remarkably sociable all that day. 

Haysman's meadow was gay with a tent, in which Mrs. Bunting andother ladies were preparing tea, while, without, the Sunday-schoolchildren ran races and played games under the noisy guidance of thecurate and the Misses Cuss and Sackbut. No doubt there was a slightuneasiness in the air, but people for the most part had the senseto conceal whatever imaginative qualms they experienced. On thevillage green an inclined strong, down which, clinging the whileto a pulley-swung handle, one could be hurled violently against asack at the other end, came in for considerable favour among theadolescent, as also did the swings and the cocoanut shies. Therewas also promenading, and the steam organ attached to a smallroundabout filled the air with a pungent flavour of oil and withequally pungent music. Members of the club, who had attendedchurch in the morning, were splendid in badges of pink and green, and some of the gayer-minded had also adorned their bowler hatswith brilliant-coloured favours of ribbon. Old Fletcher, whoseconceptions of holiday-making were severe, was visible through thejasmine about his window or through the open door (whichever wayyou chose to look), poised delicately on a plank supported on twochairs, and whitewashing the ceiling of his front room. 

About four o'clock a stranger entered the village from the directionof the downs. He was a short, stout person in an extraordinarilyshabby top hat, and he appeared to be very much out of breath. Hischeeks were alternately limp and tightly puffed. His mottled facewas apprehensive, and he moved with a sort of reluctant alacrity. Heturned the corner of the church, and directed his way to the "Coachand Horses. " Among others old Fletcher remembers seeing him, andindeed the old gentleman was so struck by his peculiar agitationthat he inadvertently allowed a quantity of whitewash to run downthe brush into the sleeve of his coat while regarding him. 

This stranger, to the perceptions of the proprietor of the cocoanutshy, appeared to be talking to himself, and Mr. Huxter remarked thesame thing. He stopped at the foot of the "Coach and Horses" steps, and, according to Mr. Huxter, appeared to undergo a severe internalstruggle before he could induce himself to enter the house. Finallyhe marched up the steps, and was seen by Mr. Huxter to turn to theleft and open the door of the parlour. Mr. Huxter heard voices fromwithin the room and from the bar apprising the man of his error. "That room's private!" said Hall, and the stranger shut the doorclumsily and went into the bar. 

In the course of a few minutes he reappeared, wiping his lips withthe back of his hand with an air of quiet satisfaction that somehowimpressed Mr. Huxter as assumed. He stood looking about him forsome moments, and then Mr. Huxter saw him walk in an oddly furtivemanner towards the gates of the yard, upon which the parlour windowopened. The stranger, after some hesitation, leant against one ofthe gate-posts, produced a short clay pipe, and prepared to fillit. His fingers trembled while doing so. He lit it clumsily, andfolding his arms began to smoke in a languid attitude, an attitudewhich his occasional glances up the yard altogether belied. 

All this Mr. Huxter saw over the canisters of the tobacco window, and the singularity of the man's behaviour prompted him to maintainhis observation. 

Presently the stranger stood up abruptly and put his pipe in hispocket. Then he vanished into the yard. Forthwith Mr. Huxter, conceiving he was witness of some petty larceny, leapt round hiscounter and ran out into the road to intercept the thief. As he didso, Mr. Marvel reappeared, his hat askew, a big bundle in a bluetable-cloth in one hand, and three books tied together--as it provedafterwards with the Vicar's braces--in the other. Directly he sawHuxter he gave a sort of gasp, and turning sharply to the left, began to run. "Stop, thief!" cried Huxter, and set off after him. Mr. Huxter's sensations were vivid but brief. He saw the man justbefore him and spurting briskly for the church corner and the hillroad. He saw the village flags and festivities beyond, and a face orso turned towards him. He bawled, "Stop!" again. He had hardly goneten strides before his shin was caught in some mysterious fashion, and he was no longer running, but flying with inconceivable rapiditythrough the air. He saw the ground suddenly close to his face. Theworld seemed to splash into a million whirling specks of light, andsubsequent proceedings interested him no more. 

CHAPTER XI

IN THE "COACH AND HORSES"

Now in order clearly to understand what had happened in the inn, itis necessary to go back to the moment when Mr. Marvel first cameinto view of Mr. Huxter's window. 

At that precise moment Mr. Cuss and Mr. Bunting were in the parlour. They were seriously investigating the strange occurrences of themorning, and were, with Mr. Hall's permission, making a thoroughexamination of the Invisible Man's belongings. Jaffers had partiallyrecovered from his fall and had gone home in the charge of hissympathetic friends. The stranger's scattered garments had beenremoved by Mrs. Hall and the room tidied up. And on the table underthe window where the stranger had been wont to work, Cuss had hitalmost at once on three big books in manuscript labelled "Diary. "

"Diary!" said Cuss, putting the three books on the table. "Now, atany rate, we shall learn something. " The Vicar stood with his handson the table. 

"Diary, " repeated Cuss, sitting down, putting two volumes tosupport the third, and opening it. "H'm--no name on the fly-leaf. Bother!--cypher. And figures. "

The vicar came round to look over his shoulder. 

Cuss turned the pages over with a face suddenly disappointed. "I'm--dear me! It's all cypher, Bunting. "

"There are no diagrams?" asked Mr. Bunting. "No illustrationsthrowing light--"

"See for yourself, " said Mr. Cuss. "Some of it's mathematical andsome of it's Russian or some such language (to judge by theletters), and some of it's Greek. Now the Greek I thought _you_--"

"Of course, " said Mr. Bunting, taking out and wiping his spectaclesand feeling suddenly very uncomfortable--for he had no Greekleft in his mind worth talking about; "yes--the Greek, of course, may furnish a clue. "

"I'll find you a place. "

"I'd rather glance through the volumes first, " said Mr. Bunting, still wiping. "A general impression first, Cuss, and _then_, youknow, we can go looking for clues. "

He coughed, put on his glasses, arranged them fastidiously, coughedagain, and wished something would happen to avert the seeminglyinevitable exposure. Then he took the volume Cuss handed him in aleisurely manner. And then something did happen. 

The door opened suddenly. 

Both gentlemen started violently, looked round, and were relievedto see a sporadically rosy face beneath a furry silk hat. "Tap?"asked the face, and stood staring. 

"No, " said both gentlemen at once. 

"Over the other side, my man, " said Mr. Bunting. And "Please shutthat door, " said Mr. Cuss, irritably. 

"All right, " said the intruder, as it seemed in a low voicecuriously different from the huskiness of its first inquiry. "Rightyou are, " said the intruder in the former voice. "Stand clear!" andhe vanished and closed the door. 

"A sailor, I should judge, " said Mr. Bunting. "Amusing fellows, theyare. Stand clear! indeed. A nautical term, referring to his gettingback out of the room, I suppose. "

"I daresay so, " said Cuss. "My nerves are all loose to-day. It quitemade me jump--the door opening like that. "

Mr. Bunting smiled as if he had not jumped. "And now, " he said witha sigh, "these books. "

Someone sniffed as he did so. 

"One thing is indisputable, " said Bunting, drawing up a chair nextto that of Cuss. "There certainly have been very strange thingshappen in Iping during the last few days--very strange. I cannotof course believe in this absurd invisibility story--"

"It's incredible, " said Cuss--"incredible. But the fact remainsthat I saw--I certainly saw right down his sleeve--"

"But did you--are you sure? Suppose a mirror, for instance--hallucinations are so easily produced. I don't know if youhave ever seen a really good conjuror--"

"I won't argue again, " said Cuss. "We've thrashed that out, Bunting. And just now there's these books--Ah! here's some ofwhat I take to be Greek! Greek letters certainly. "

He pointed to the middle of the page. Mr. Bunting flushed slightlyand brought his face nearer, apparently finding some difficultywith his glasses. Suddenly he became aware of a strange feeling atthe nape of his neck. He tried to raise his head, and encounteredan immovable resistance. The feeling was a curious pressure, thegrip of a heavy, firm hand, and it bore his chin irresistibly tothe table. "Don't move, little men, " whispered a voice, "or I'llbrain you both!" He looked into the face of Cuss, close to his own, and each saw a horrified reflection of his own sickly astonishment. 

"I'm sorry to handle you so roughly, " said the Voice, "but it'sunavoidable. "

"Since when did you learn to pry into an investigator's privatememoranda, " said the Voice; and two chins struck the tablesimultaneously, and two sets of teeth rattled. 

"Since when did you learn to invade the private rooms of a man inmisfortune?" and the concussion was repeated. 

"Where have they put my clothes?"

"Listen, " said the Voice. "The windows are fastened and I've takenthe key out of the door. I am a fairly strong man, and I have thepoker handy--besides being invisible. There's not the slightestdoubt that I could kill you both and get away quite easily if Iwanted to--do you understand? Very well. If I let you go will youpromise not to try any nonsense and do what I tell you?"

The vicar and the doctor looked at one another, and the doctorpulled a face. "Yes, " said Mr. Bunting, and the doctor repeated it. Then the pressure on the necks relaxed, and the doctor and thevicar sat up, both very red in the face and wriggling their heads. 

"Please keep sitting where you are, " said the Invisible Man. "Here's the poker, you see. "

"When I came into this room, " continued the Invisible Man, afterpresenting the poker to the tip of the nose of each of his visitors, "I did not expect to find it occupied, and I expected to find, inaddition to my books of memoranda, an outfit of clothing. Where isit? No--don't rise. I can see it's gone. Now, just at present, though the days are quite warm enough for an invisible man to runabout stark, the evenings are quite chilly. I want clothing--andother accommodation; and I must also have those three books. "

CHAPTER XII

THE INVISIBLE MAN LOSES HIS TEMPER

It is unavoidable that at this point the narrative should break offagain, for a certain very painful reason that will presently beapparent. While these things were going on in the parlour, andwhile Mr. Huxter was watching Mr. Marvel smoking his pipe againstthe gate, not a dozen yards away were Mr. Hall and Teddy Henfreydiscussing in a state of cloudy puzzlement the one Iping topic. 

Suddenly there came a violent thud against the door of the parlour, a sharp cry, and then--silence. 

"Hul-lo!" said Teddy Henfrey. 

"Hul-lo!" from the Tap. 

Mr. Hall took things in slowly but surely. "That ain't right, " hesaid, and came round from behind the bar towards the parlour door. 

He and Teddy approached the door together, with intent faces. Theireyes considered. "Summat wrong, " said Hall, and Henfrey noddedagreement. Whiffs of an unpleasant chemical odour met them, andthere was a muffled sound of conversation, very rapid and subdued. 

"You all right thur?" asked Hall, rapping. 

The muttered conversation ceased abruptly, for a moment silence, then the conversation was resumed, in hissing whispers, then asharp cry of "No! no, you don't!" There came a sudden motion andthe oversetting of a chair, a brief struggle. Silence again. 

"What the dooce?" exclaimed Henfrey, _sotto voce_. 

"You--all--right thur?" asked Mr. Hall, sharply, again. 

The Vicar's voice answered with a curious jerking intonation:"Quite ri-right. Please don't--interrupt. "

"Odd!" said Mr. Henfrey. 

"Odd!" said Mr. Hall. 

"Says, 'Don't interrupt, '" said Henfrey. 

"I heerd'n, " said Hall. 

"And a sniff, " said Henfrey. 

They remained listening. The conversation was rapid and subdued. "I _can't_, " said Mr. Bunting, his voice rising; "I tell you, sir, I _will_ not. "

"What was that?" asked Henfrey. 

"Says he wi' nart, " said Hall. "Warn't speaking to us, wuz he?"

"Disgraceful!" said Mr. Bunting, within. 

"'Disgraceful, '" said Mr. Henfrey. "I heard it--distinct. "

"Who's that speaking now?" asked Henfrey. 

"Mr. Cuss, I s'pose, " said Hall. "Can you hear--anything?"

Silence. The sounds within indistinct and perplexing. 

"Sounds like throwing the table-cloth about, " said Hall. 

Mrs. Hall appeared behind the bar. Hall made gestures of silence andinvitation. This aroused Mrs. Hall's wifely opposition. "What yerlistenin' there for, Hall?" she asked. "Ain't you nothin' better todo--busy day like this?"

Hall tried to convey everything by grimaces and dumb show, but Mrs. Hall was obdurate. She raised her voice. So Hall and Henfrey, rathercrestfallen, tiptoed back to the bar, gesticulating to explain toher. 

At first she refused to see anything in what they had heard atall. Then she insisted on Hall keeping silence, while Henfrey toldher his story. She was inclined to think the whole businessnonsense--perhaps they were just moving the furniture about. "Iheerd'n say 'disgraceful'; _that_ I did, " said Hall. 

"_I_ heerd that, Mrs. Hall, " said Henfrey. 

"Like as not--" began Mrs. Hall. 

"Hsh!" said Mr. Teddy Henfrey. "Didn't I hear the window?"

"What window?" asked Mrs. Hall. 

"Parlour window, " said Henfrey. 

Everyone stood listening intently. Mrs. Hall's eyes, directedstraight before her, saw without seeing the brilliant oblong of theinn door, the road white and vivid, and Huxter's shop-frontblistering in the June sun. Abruptly Huxter's door opened and Huxterappeared, eyes staring with excitement, arms gesticulating. "Yap!"cried Huxter. "Stop thief!" and he ran obliquely across the oblongtowards the yard gates, and vanished. 

Simultaneously came a tumult from the parlour, and a sound ofwindows being closed. 

Hall, Henfrey, and the human contents of the tap rushed out at oncepell-mell into the street. They saw someone whisk round the cornertowards the road, and Mr. Huxter executing a complicated leap inthe air that ended on his face and shoulder. Down the street peoplewere standing astonished or running towards them. 

Mr. Huxter was stunned. Henfrey stopped to discover this, but Halland the two labourers from the Tap rushed at once to the corner, shouting incoherent things, and saw Mr. Marvel vanishing by thecorner of the church wall. They appear to have jumped to theimpossible conclusion that this was the Invisible Man suddenlybecome visible, and set off at once along the lane in pursuit. ButHall had hardly run a dozen yards before he gave a loud shout ofastonishment and went flying headlong sideways, clutching one ofthe labourers and bringing him to the ground. He had been chargedjust as one charges a man at football. The second labourer cameround in a circle, stared, and conceiving that Hall had tumbledover of his own accord, turned to resume the pursuit, only to betripped by the ankle just as Huxter had been. Then, as the firstlabourer struggled to his feet, he was kicked sideways by a blowthat might have felled an ox. 

As he went down, the rush from the direction of the village greencame round the corner. The first to appear was the proprietor ofthe cocoanut shy, a burly man in a blue jersey. He was astonishedto see the lane empty save for three men sprawling absurdly on theground. And then something happened to his rear-most foot, and hewent headlong and rolled sideways just in time to graze the feetof his brother and partner, following headlong. The two were thenkicked, knelt on, fallen over, and cursed by quite a number ofover-hasty people. 

Now when Hall and Henfrey and the labourers ran out of the house, Mrs. Hall, who had been disciplined by years of experience, remained in the bar next the till. And suddenly the parlour doorwas opened, and Mr. Cuss appeared, and without glancing at herrushed at once down the steps toward the corner. "Hold him!" hecried. "Don't let him drop that parcel. "

He knew nothing of theexistence of Marvel. For the Invisible Man had handed over thebooks and bundle in the yard. The face of Mr. Cuss was angry andresolute, but his costume was defective, a sort of limp white kiltthat could only have passed muster in Greece. "Hold him!" hebawled. "He's got my trousers! And every stitch of the Vicar'sclothes!"

"'Tend to him in a minute!" he cried to Henfrey as he passed theprostrate Huxter, and, coming round the corner to join the tumult, was promptly knocked off his feet into an indecorous sprawl. Somebody in full flight trod heavily on his finger. He yelled, struggled to regain his feet, was knocked against and thrown on allfours again, and became aware that he was involved not in a capture, but a rout. Everyone was running back to the village. He rose againand was hit severely behind the ear. He staggered and set off backto the "Coach and Horses" forthwith, leaping over the desertedHuxter, who was now sitting up, on his way. 

Behind him as he was halfway up the inn steps he heard a suddenyell of rage, rising sharply out of the confusion of cries, and asounding smack in someone's face. He recognised the voice as thatof the Invisible Man, and the note was that of a man suddenlyinfuriated by a painful blow. 

In another moment Mr. Cuss was back in the parlour. "He's comingback, Bunting!" he said, rushing in. "Save yourself!"

Mr. Bunting was standing in the window engaged in an attempt toclothe himself in the hearth-rug and a _West Surrey Gazette_. "Who'scoming?" he said, so startled that his costume narrowly escapeddisintegration. 

"Invisible Man, " said Cuss, and rushed on to the window. "We'dbetter clear out from here! He's fighting mad! Mad!"

In another moment he was out in the yard. 

"Good heavens!" said Mr. Bunting, hesitating between two horriblealternatives. He heard a frightful struggle in the passage of theinn, and his decision was made. He clambered out of the window, adjusted his costume hastily, and fled up the village as fast ashis fat little legs would carry him. 

From the moment when the Invisible Man screamed with rage and Mr. Bunting made his memorable flight up the village, it becameimpossible to give a consecutive account of affairs in Iping. Possibly the Invisible Man's original intention was simply to coverMarvel's retreat with the clothes and books. But his temper, at notime very good, seems to have gone completely at some chance blow, and forthwith he set to smiting and overthrowing, for the meresatisfaction of hurting. 

You must figure the street full of running figures, of doorsslamming and fights for hiding-places. You must figure the tumultsuddenly striking on the unstable equilibrium of old Fletcher'splanks and two chairs--with cataclysmic results. You must figurean appalled couple caught dismally in a swing. And then the wholetumultuous rush has passed and the Iping street with its gauds andflags is deserted save for the still raging unseen, and litteredwith cocoanuts, overthrown canvas screens, and the scattered stockin trade of a sweetstuff stall. Everywhere there is a sound ofclosing shutters and shoving bolts, and the only visible humanityis an occasional flitting eye under a raised eyebrow in the cornerof a window pane. 

The Invisible Man amused himself for a little while by breaking allthe windows in the "Coach and Horses, " and then he thrust a streetlamp through the parlour window of Mrs. Gribble. He it must havebeen who cut the telegraph wire to Adderdean just beyond Higgins'cottage on the Adderdean road. And after that, as his peculiarqualities allowed, he passed out of human perceptions altogether, and he was neither heard, seen, nor felt in Iping any more. Hevanished absolutely. 

But it was the best part of two hours before any human beingventured out again into the desolation of Iping street. 

CHAPTER XIII

MR. MARVEL DISCUSSES HIS RESIGNATION

When the dusk was gathering and Iping was just beginning to peeptimorously forth again upon the shattered wreckage of its BankHoliday, a short, thick-set man in a shabby silk hat was marchingpainfully through the twilight behind the beechwoods on the road toBramblehurst. He carried three books bound together by some sortof ornamental elastic ligature, and a bundle wrapped in a bluetable-cloth. His rubicund face expressed consternation and fatigue;he appeared to be in a spasmodic sort of hurry. He was accompaniedby a voice other than his own, and ever and again he winced underthe touch of unseen hands. 

"If you give me the slip again, " said the Voice, "if you attempt togive me the slip again--"

"Lord!" said Mr. Marvel. "That shoulder's a mass of bruises as itis. "

"On my honour, " said the Voice, "I will kill you. "

"I didn't try to give you the slip, " said Marvel, in a voice thatwas not far remote from tears. "I swear I didn't. I didn't know theblessed turning, that was all! How the devil was I to know theblessed turning? As it is, I've been knocked about--"

"You'll get knocked about a great deal more if you don't mind, "said the Voice, and Mr. Marvel abruptly became silent. He blew outhis cheeks, and his eyes were eloquent of despair. 

"It's bad enough to let these floundering yokels explode my littlesecret, without _your_ cutting off with my books. It's lucky for someof them they cut and ran when they did! Here am I ... No one knew Iwas invisible! And now what am I to do?"

"What am _I_ to do?" asked Marvel, _sotto voce_. 

"It's all about. It will be in the papers! Everybody will belooking for me; everyone on their guard--" The Voice broke offinto vivid curses and ceased. 

The despair of Mr. Marvel's face deepened, and his pace slackened. 

"Go on!" said the Voice. 

Mr. Marvel's face assumed a greyish tint between the ruddierpatches. 

"Don't drop those books, stupid, " said the Voice, sharply--overtakinghim. 

"The fact is, " said the Voice, "I shall have to make use of you.... You're a poor tool, but I must. "

"I'm a _miserable_ tool, " said Marvel. 

"You are, " said the Voice. 

"I'm the worst possible tool you could have, " said Marvel. 

"I'm not strong, " he said after a discouraging silence. 

"I'm not over strong, " he repeated. 

"No?"

"And my heart's weak. That little business--I pulled it through, of course--but bless you! I could have dropped. "

"Well?"

"I haven't the nerve and strength for the sort of thing you want. "

"_I'll_ stimulate you. "

"I wish you wouldn't. I wouldn't like to mess up your plans, youknow. But I might--out of sheer funk and misery. "

"You'd better not, " said the Voice, with quiet emphasis. 

"I wish I was dead, " said Marvel. 

"It ain't justice, " he said; "you must admit.... It seems to me I'vea perfect right--"

"_Get_ on!" said the Voice. 

Mr. Marvel mended his pace, and for a time they went in silenceagain. 

"It's devilish hard, " said Mr. Marvel. 

This was quite ineffectual. He tried another tack. 

"What do I make by it?" he began again in a tone of unendurablewrong. 

"Oh! _shut up_!" said the Voice, with sudden amazing vigour. "I'llsee to you all right. You do what you're told. You'll do it allright. You're a fool and all that, but you'll do--"

"I tell you, sir, I'm not the man for it. Respectfully--butit _is_ so--"

"If you don't shut up I shall twist your wrist again, " said theInvisible Man. "I want to think. "

Presently two oblongs of yellow light appeared through the trees, and the square tower of a church loomed through the gloaming. "Ishall keep my hand on your shoulder, " said the Voice, "all throughthe village. Go straight through and try no foolery. It will be theworse for you if you do. "

"I know that, " sighed Mr. Marvel, "I know all that. "

The unhappy-looking figure in the obsolete silk hat passed up thestreet of the little village with his burdens, and vanished intothe gathering darkness beyond the lights of the windows. 

CHAPTER XIV

AT PORT STOWE

Ten o'clock the next morning found Mr. Marvel, unshaven, dirty, andtravel-stained, sitting with the books beside him and his hands deepin his pockets, looking very weary, nervous, and uncomfortable, andinflating his cheeks at infrequent intervals, on the bench outsidea little inn on the outskirts of Port Stowe. Beside him were thebooks, but now they were tied with string. The bundle had beenabandoned in the pine-woods beyond Bramblehurst, in accordance witha change in the plans of the Invisible Man. Mr. Marvel sat on thebench, and although no one took the slightest notice of him, hisagitation remained at fever heat. His hands would go ever and againto his various pockets with a curious nervous fumbling. 

When he had been sitting for the best part of an hour, however, anelderly mariner, carrying a newspaper, came out of the inn and satdown beside him. "Pleasant day, " said the mariner. 

Mr. Marvel glanced about him with something very like terror. "Very, " he said. 

"Just seasonable weather for the time of year, " said the mariner, taking no denial. 

"Quite, " said Mr. Marvel. 

The mariner produced a toothpick, and (saving his regard) wasengrossed thereby for some minutes. His eyes meanwhile were atliberty to examine Mr. Marvel's dusty figure, and the books besidehim. As he had approached Mr. Marvel he had heard a sound like thedropping of coins into a pocket. He was struck by the contrast ofMr. Marvel's appearance with this suggestion of opulence. Thencehis mind wandered back again to a topic that had taken a curiouslyfirm hold of his imagination. 

"Books?" he said suddenly, noisily finishing with the toothpick. 

Mr. Marvel started and looked at them. "Oh, yes, " he said. "Yes, they're books. "

"There's some extra-ordinary things in books, " said the mariner. 

"I believe you, " said Mr. Marvel. 

"And some extra-ordinary things out of 'em, " said the mariner. 

"True likewise, " said Mr. Marvel. He eyed his interlocutor, andthen glanced about him. 

"There's some extra-ordinary things in newspapers, for example, "said the mariner. 

"There are. "

"In _this_ newspaper, " said the mariner. 

"Ah!" said Mr. Marvel. 

"There's a story, " said the mariner, fixing Mr. Marvel with an eyethat was firm and deliberate; "there's a story about an InvisibleMan, for instance. "

Mr. Marvel pulled his mouth askew and scratched his cheek and felthis ears glowing. "What will they be writing next?" he askedfaintly. "Ostria, or America?"

"Neither, " said the mariner. "_Here_. "

"Lord!" said Mr. Marvel, starting. 

"When I say _here_, " said the mariner, to Mr. Marvel's intenserelief, "I don't of course mean here in this place, I meanhereabouts. "

"An Invisible Man!" said Mr. Marvel. "And what's _he_ been up to?"

"Everything, " said the mariner, controlling Marvel with his eye, and then amplifying, "every--blessed--thing. "

"I ain't seen a paper these four days, " said Marvel. 

"Iping's the place he started at, " said the mariner. 

"In-_deed_!" said Mr. Marvel. 

"He started there. And where he came from, nobody don't seem toknow. Here it is: 'Pe-culiar Story from Iping. ' And it says in thispaper that the evidence is extra-ordinary strong--extra-ordinary. "

"Lord!" said Mr. Marvel. 

"But then, it's an extra-ordinary story. There is a clergyman and amedical gent witnesses--saw 'im all right and proper--or leastwaysdidn't see 'im. He was staying, it says, at the 'Coach an' Horses, 'and no one don't seem to have been aware of his misfortune, it says, aware of his misfortune, until in an Altercation in the inn, itsays, his bandages on his head was torn off. It was then ob-servedthat his head was invisible. Attempts were At Once made to securehim, but casting off his garments, it says, he succeeded inescaping, but not until after a desperate struggle, in which hehad inflicted serious injuries, it says, on our worthy and ableconstable, Mr. J. A. Jaffers. Pretty straight story, eh? Names andeverything. "

"Lord!" said Mr. Marvel, looking nervously about him, trying tocount the money in his pockets by his unaided sense of touch, andfull of a strange and novel idea. "It sounds most astonishing. "

"Don't it? Extra-ordinary, _I_ call it. Never heard tell of InvisibleMen before, I haven't, but nowadays one hears such a lot ofextra-ordinary things--that--"

"That all he did?" asked Marvel, trying to seem at his ease. 

"It's enough, ain't it?" said the mariner. 

"Didn't go Back by any chance?" asked Marvel. "Just escaped andthat's all, eh?"

"All!" said the mariner. "Why!--ain't it enough?"

"Quite enough, " said Marvel. 

"I should think it was enough, " said the mariner. "I should thinkit was enough. "

"He didn't have any pals--it don't say he had any pals, does it?"asked Mr. Marvel, anxious. 

"Ain't one of a sort enough for you?" asked the mariner. "No, thankHeaven, as one might say, he didn't. "

He nodded his head slowly. "It makes me regular uncomfortable, the bare thought of that chap running about the country! He is atpresent At Large, and from certain evidence it is supposed that hehas--taken--_took_, I suppose they mean--the road to Port Stowe. Yousee we're right _in_ it! None of your American wonders, this time. And just think of the things he might do! Where'd you be, if he tooka drop over and above, and had a fancy to go for you? Suppose hewants to rob--who can prevent him? He can trespass, he can burgle, he could walk through a cordon of policemen as easy as me or youcould give the slip to a blind man! Easier! For these here blindchaps hear uncommon sharp, I'm told. And wherever there was liquorhe fancied--"

"He's got a tremenjous advantage, certainly, " said Mr. Marvel. "And--well... "

"You're right, " said the mariner. "He _has_. "

All this time Mr. Marvel had been glancing about him intently, listening for faint footfalls, trying to detect imperceptiblemovements. He seemed on the point of some great resolution. Hecoughed behind his hand. 

He looked about him again, listened, bent towards the mariner, andlowered his voice: "The fact of it is--I happen--to know just athing or two about this Invisible Man. From private sources. "

"Oh!" said the mariner, interested. "_You_?"

"Yes, " said Mr. Marvel. "Me. "

"Indeed!" said the mariner. "And may I ask--"

"You'll be astonished, " said Mr. Marvel behind his hand. "It'stremenjous. "

"Indeed!" said the mariner. 

"The fact is, " began Mr. Marvel eagerly in a confidential undertone. Suddenly his expression changed marvellously. "Ow!" he said. He rosestiffly in his seat. His face was eloquent of physical suffering. "Wow!" he said. 

"What's up?" said the mariner, concerned. 

"Toothache, " said Mr. Marvel, and put his hand to his ear. He caughthold of his books. "I must be getting on, I think, " he said. Heedged in a curious way along the seat away from his interlocutor. "But you was just a-going to tell me about this here Invisible Man!"protested the mariner. Mr. Marvel seemed to consult with himself. "Hoax, " said a Voice. "It's a hoax, " said Mr. Marvel. 

"But it's in the paper, " said the mariner. 

"Hoax all the same, " said Marvel. "I know the chap that started thelie. There ain't no Invisible Man whatsoever--Blimey. "

"But how 'bout this paper? D'you mean to say--?"

"Not a word of it, " said Marvel, stoutly. 

The mariner stared, paper in hand. Mr. Marvel jerkily faced about. "Wait a bit, " said the mariner, rising and speaking slowly, "D'youmean to say--?"

"I do, " said Mr. Marvel. 

"Then why did you let me go on and tell you all this blarstedstuff, then? What d'yer mean by letting a man make a fool ofhimself like that for? Eh?"

Mr. Marvel blew out his cheeks. The mariner was suddenly very redindeed; he clenched his hands. "I been talking here this tenminutes, " he said; "and you, you little pot-bellied, leathery-facedson of an old boot, couldn't have the elementary manners--"

"Don't you come bandying words with _me_, " said Mr. Marvel. 

"Bandying words! I'm a jolly good mind--"

"Come up, " said a Voice, and Mr. Marvel was suddenly whirled aboutand started marching off in a curious spasmodic manner. "You'dbetter move on, " said the mariner. "Who's moving on?" said Mr. Marvel. He was receding obliquely with a curious hurrying gait, withoccasional violent jerks forward. Some way along the road he begana muttered monologue, protests and recriminations. 

"Silly devil!" said the mariner, legs wide apart, elbows akimbo, watching the receding figure. "I'll show you, you silly ass--hoaxing_me_! It's here--on the paper!"

Mr. Marvel retorted incoherently and, receding, was hidden by a bendin the road, but the mariner still stood magnificent in the midstof the way, until the approach of a butcher's cart dislodged him. Then he turned himself towards Port Stowe. "Full of extra-ordinaryasses, " he said softly to himself. "Just to take me down a bit--thatwas his silly game--It's on the paper!"

And there was another extraordinary thing he was presently to hear, that had happened quite close to him. And that was a vision of a"fist full of money" (no less) travelling without visible agency, along by the wall at the corner of St. Michael's Lane. A brothermariner had seen this wonderful sight that very morning. He hadsnatched at the money forthwith and had been knocked headlong, andwhen he had got to his feet the butterfly money had vanished. Ourmariner was in the mood to believe anything, he declared, but thatwas a bit _too_ stiff. Afterwards, however, he began to think thingsover. 

The story of the flying money was true. And all about thatneighbourhood, even from the august London and Country BankingCompany, from the tills of shops and inns--doors standing that sunnyweather entirely open--money had been quietly and dexterously makingoff that day in handfuls and rouleaux, floating quietly along bywalls and shady places, dodging quickly from the approaching eyes ofmen. And it had, though no man had traced it, invariably ended itsmysterious flight in the pocket of that agitated gentleman in theobsolete silk hat, sitting outside the little inn on the outskirtsof Port Stowe. 

It was ten days after--and indeed only when the Burdock story wasalready old--that the mariner collated these facts and began tounderstand how near he had been to the wonderful Invisible Man. 

CHAPTER XV

THE MAN WHO WAS RUNNING

In the early evening time Dr. Kemp was sitting in his study in thebelvedere on the hill overlooking Burdock. It was a pleasant littleroom, with three windows--north, west, and south--and bookshelvescovered with books and scientific publications, and a broadwriting-table, and, under the north window, a microscope, glassslips, minute instruments, some cultures, and scattered bottles ofreagents. Dr. Kemp's solar lamp was lit, albeit the sky was stillbright with the sunset light, and his blinds were up because therewas no offence of peering outsiders to require them pulled down. Dr. Kemp was a tall and slender young man, with flaxen hair and amoustache almost white, and the work he was upon would earn him, hehoped, the fellowship of the Royal Society, so highly did he thinkof it. 

And his eye, presently wandering from his work, caught the sunsetblazing at the back of the hill that is over against his own. For aminute perhaps he sat, pen in mouth, admiring the rich goldencolour above the crest, and then his attention was attracted by thelittle figure of a man, inky black, running over the hill-browtowards him. He was a shortish little man, and he wore a high hat, and he was running so fast that his legs verily twinkled. 

"Another of those fools, " said Dr. Kemp. "Like that ass who raninto me this morning round a corner, with the ''Visible Mana-coming, sir!' I can't imagine what possess people. One mightthink we were in the thirteenth century. "

He got up, went to the window, and stared at the dusky hillside, andthe dark little figure tearing down it. "He seems in a confoundedhurry, " said Dr. Kemp, "but he doesn't seem to be getting on. Ifhis pockets were full of lead, he couldn't run heavier. "

"Spurted, sir, " said Dr. Kemp. 

In another moment the higher of the villas that had clambered up thehill from Burdock had occulted the running figure. He was visibleagain for a moment, and again, and then again, three times betweenthe three detached houses that came next, and then the terrace hidhim. 

"Asses!" said Dr. Kemp, swinging round on his heel and walkingback to his writing-table. 

But those who saw the fugitive nearer, and perceived the abjectterror on his perspiring face, being themselves in the open roadway, did not share in the doctor's contempt. By the man pounded, and ashe ran he chinked like a well-filled purse that is tossed to andfro. He looked neither to the right nor the left, but his dilatedeyes stared straight downhill to where the lamps were being lit, andthe people were crowded in the street. And his ill-shaped mouth fellapart, and a glairy foam lay on his lips, and his breath came hoarseand noisy. All he passed stopped and began staring up the road anddown, and interrogating one another with an inkling of discomfortfor the reason of his haste. 

And then presently, far up the hill, a dog playing in the roadyelped and ran under a gate, and as they still wonderedsomething--a wind--a pad, pad, pad, --a sound like a panting breathing, rushed by. 

People screamed. People sprang off the pavement: It passed inshouts, it passed by instinct down the hill. They were shouting inthe street before Marvel was halfway there. They were bolting intohouses and slamming the doors behind them, with the news. He heardit and made one last desperate spurt. Fear came striding by, rushedahead of him, and in a moment had seized the town. 

"The Invisible Man is coming! The Invisible Man!"

CHAPTER XVI

IN THE "JOLLY CRICKETERS"

The "Jolly Cricketers" is just at the bottom of the hill, where thetram-lines begin. The barman leant his fat red arms on the counterand talked of horses with an anaemic cabman, while a black-beardedman in grey snapped up biscuit and cheese, drank Burton, andconversed in American with a policeman off duty. 

"What's the shouting about!" said the anaemic cabman, going off at atangent, trying to see up the hill over the dirty yellow blind inthe low window of the inn. Somebody ran by outside. "Fire, perhaps, "said the barman. 

Footsteps approached, running heavily, the door was pushed openviolently, and Marvel, weeping and dishevelled, his hat gone, theneck of his coat torn open, rushed in, made a convulsive turn, andattempted to shut the door. It was held half open by a strap. 

"Coming!" he bawled, his voice shrieking with terror. "He's coming. The 'Visible Man! After me! For Gawd's sake! 'Elp! 'Elp! 'Elp!"

"Shut the doors, " said the policeman. "Who's coming? What's therow?" He went to the door, released the strap, and it slammed. TheAmerican closed the other door. 

"Lemme go inside, " said Marvel, staggering and weeping, but stillclutching the books. "Lemme go inside. Lock me in--somewhere. Itell you he's after me. I give him the slip. He said he'd kill meand he will. "

"_You're_ safe, " said the man with the black beard. "The door's shut. What's it all about?"

"Lemme go inside, " said Marvel, and shrieked aloud as a blowsuddenly made the fastened door shiver and was followed by a hurriedrapping and a shouting outside. "Hullo, " cried the policeman, "who'sthere?" Mr. Marvel began to make frantic dives at panels that lookedlike doors. "He'll kill me--he's got a knife or something. ForGawd's sake--!"

"Here you are, " said the barman. "Come in here. " And he held up theflap of the bar. 

Mr. Marvel rushed behind the bar as the summons outside wasrepeated. "Don't open the door, " he screamed. "_Please_ don't openthe door. _Where_ shall I hide?"

"This, this Invisible Man, then?" asked the man with the blackbeard, with one hand behind him. "I guess it's about time we sawhim. "

The window of the inn was suddenly smashed in, and there was ascreaming and running to and fro in the street. The policeman hadbeen standing on the settee staring out, craning to see who was atthe door. He got down with raised eyebrows. "It's that, " he said. The barman stood in front of the bar-parlour door which was nowlocked on Mr. Marvel, stared at the smashed window, and came roundto the two other men. 

Everything was suddenly quiet. "I wish I had my truncheon, " saidthe policeman, going irresolutely to the door. "Once we open, in hecomes. There's no stopping him. "

"Don't you be in too much hurry about that door, " said the anaemiccabman, anxiously. 

"Draw the bolts, " said the man with the black beard, "and if hecomes--" He showed a revolver in his hand. 

"That won't do, " said the policeman; "that's murder. "

"I know what country I'm in, " said the man with the beard. "I'mgoing to let off at his legs. Draw the bolts. "

"Not with that blinking thing going off behind me, " said thebarman, craning over the blind. 

"Very well, " said the man with the black beard, and stooping down, revolver ready, drew them himself. Barman, cabman, and policemanfaced about. 

"Come in, " said the bearded man in an undertone, standing back andfacing the unbolted doors with his pistol behind him. No one camein, the door remained closed. Five minutes afterwards when a secondcabman pushed his head in cautiously, they were still waiting, andan anxious face peered out of the bar-parlour and suppliedinformation. "Are all the doors of the house shut?" asked Marvel. "He's going round--prowling round. He's as artful as the devil. "

"Good Lord!" said the burly barman. "There's the back! Just watchthem doors! I say--!" He looked about him helplessly. Thebar-parlour door slammed and they heard the key turn. "There'sthe yard door and the private door. The yard door--"

He rushed out of the bar. 

In a minute he reappeared with a carving-knife in his hand. "Theyard door was open!" he said, and his fat underlip dropped. "He maybe in the house now!" said the first cabman. 

"He's not in the kitchen, " said the barman. "There's two womenthere, and I've stabbed every inch of it with this little beefslicer. And they don't think he's come in. They haven't noticed--"

"Have you fastened it?" asked the first cabman. 

"I'm out of frocks, " said the barman. 

The man with the beard replaced his revolver. And even as he did sothe flap of the bar was shut down and the bolt clicked, and thenwith a tremendous thud the catch of the door snapped and thebar-parlour door burst open. They heard Marvel squeal like a caughtleveret, and forthwith they were clambering over the bar to hisrescue. The bearded man's revolver cracked and the looking-glass atthe back of the parlour starred and came smashing and tinkling down. 

As the barman entered the room he saw Marvel, curiously crumpled upand struggling against the door that led to the yard and kitchen. The door flew open while the barman hesitated, and Marvel wasdragged into the kitchen. There was a scream and a clatter of pans. Marvel, head down, and lugging back obstinately, was forced to thekitchen door, and the bolts were drawn. 

Then the policeman, who had been trying to pass the barman, rushedin, followed by one of the cabmen, gripped the wrist of theinvisible hand that collared Marvel, was hit in the face and wentreeling back. The door opened, and Marvel made a frantic effort toobtain a lodgment behind it. Then the cabman collared something. "I got him, " said the cabman. The barman's red hands came clawingat the unseen. "Here he is!" said the barman. 

Mr. Marvel, released, suddenly dropped to the ground and made anattempt to crawl behind the legs of the fighting men. The struggleblundered round the edge of the door. The voice of the InvisibleMan was heard for the first time, yelling out sharply, as thepoliceman trod on his foot. Then he cried out passionately andhis fists flew round like flails. The cabman suddenly whoopedand doubled up, kicked under the diaphragm. The door into thebar-parlour from the kitchen slammed and covered Mr. Marvel'sretreat. The men in the kitchen found themselves clutching at andstruggling with empty air. 

"Where's he gone?" cried the man with the beard. "Out?"

"This way, " said the policeman, stepping into the yard andstopping. 

A piece of tile whizzed by his head and smashed among the crockeryon the kitchen table. 

"I'll show him, " shouted the man with the black beard, and suddenlya steel barrel shone over the policeman's shoulder, and fivebullets had followed one another into the twilight whence themissile had come. As he fired, the man with the beard moved hishand in a horizontal curve, so that his shots radiated out into thenarrow yard like spokes from a wheel. 

A silence followed. "Five cartridges, " said the man with the blackbeard. "That's the best of all. Four aces and a joker. Get alantern, someone, and come and feel about for his body. "

CHAPTER XVII

DR. KEMP'S VISITOR

Dr. Kemp had continued writing in his study until the shotsaroused him. Crack, crack, crack, they came one after the other. 

"Hullo!" said Dr. Kemp, putting his pen into his mouth again andlistening. "Who's letting off revolvers in Burdock? What are theasses at now?"

He went to the south window, threw it up, and leaning out stareddown on the network of windows, beaded gas-lamps and shops, with itsblack interstices of roof and yard that made up the town at night. "Looks like a crowd down the hill, " he said, "by 'The Cricketers, '"and remained watching. Thence his eyes wandered over the town to faraway where the ships' lights shone, and the pier glowed--a littleilluminated, facetted pavilion like a gem of yellow light. The moonin its first quarter hung over the westward hill, and the stars wereclear and almost tropically bright. 

After five minutes, during which his mind had travelled into aremote speculation of social conditions of the future, and lostitself at last over the time dimension, Dr. Kemp roused himselfwith a sigh, pulled down the window again, and returned to hiswriting desk. 

It must have been about an hour after this that the front-door bellrang. He had been writing slackly, and with intervals ofabstraction, since the shots. He sat listening. He heard the servantanswer the door, and waited for her feet on the staircase, but shedid not come. "Wonder what that was, " said Dr. Kemp. 

He tried to resume his work, failed, got up, went downstairs fromhis study to the landing, rang, and called over the balustrade tothe housemaid as she appeared in the hall below. "Was that aletter?" he asked. 

"Only a runaway ring, sir, " she answered. 

"I'm restless to-night, " he said to himself. He went back to hisstudy, and this time attacked his work resolutely. In a littlewhile he was hard at work again, and the only sounds in the roomwere the ticking of the clock and the subdued shrillness of hisquill, hurrying in the very centre of the circle of light hislampshade threw on his table. 

It was two o'clock before Dr. Kemp had finished his work for thenight. He rose, yawned, and went downstairs to bed. He had alreadyremoved his coat and vest, when he noticed that he was thirsty. Hetook a candle and went down to the dining-room in search of asyphon and whiskey. 

Dr. Kemp's scientific pursuits have made him a very observantman, and as he recrossed the hall, he noticed a dark spot on thelinoleum near the mat at the foot of the stairs. He went onupstairs, and then it suddenly occurred to him to ask himself whatthe spot on the linoleum might be. Apparently some subconsciouselement was at work. At any rate, he turned with his burden, wentback to the hall, put down the syphon and whiskey, and bendingdown, touched the spot. Without any great surprise he found it hadthe stickiness and colour of drying blood. 

He took up his burden again, and returned upstairs, looking abouthim and trying to account for the blood-spot. On the landing he sawsomething and stopped astonished. The door-handle of his own roomwas blood-stained. 

He looked at his own hand. It was quite clean, and then heremembered that the door of his room had been open when he came downfrom his study, and that consequently he had not touched the handleat all. He went straight into his room, his face quite calm--perhapsa trifle more resolute than usual. His glance, wanderinginquisitively, fell on the bed. On the counterpane was a mess ofblood, and the sheet had been torn. He had not noticed this beforebecause he had walked straight to the dressing-table. On the furtherside the bedclothes were depressed as if someone had been recentlysitting there. 

Then he had an odd impression that he had heard a low voice say, "Good Heavens!--Kemp!" But Dr. Kemp was no believer in voices. 

He stood staring at the tumbled sheets. Was that really a voice? Helooked about again, but noticed nothing further than the disorderedand blood-stained bed. Then he distinctly heard a movement acrossthe room, near the wash-hand stand. All men, however highlyeducated, retain some superstitious inklings. The feeling that iscalled "eerie" came upon him. He closed the door of the room, cameforward to the dressing-table, and put down his burdens. Suddenly, with a start, he perceived a coiled and blood-stained bandage oflinen rag hanging in mid-air, between him and the wash-hand stand. 

He stared at this in amazement. It was an empty bandage, a bandageproperly tied but quite empty. He would have advanced to grasp it, but a touch arrested him, and a voice speaking quite close to him. 

"Kemp!" said the Voice. 

"Eh?" said Kemp, with his mouth open. 

"Keep your nerve, " said the Voice. "I'm an Invisible Man. "

Kemp made no answer for a space, simply stared at the bandage. "Invisible Man, " he said. 

"I am an Invisible Man, " repeated the Voice. 

The story he had been active to ridicule only that morning rushedthrough Kemp's brain. He does not appear to have been either verymuch frightened or very greatly surprised at the moment. Realisation came later. 

"I thought it was all a lie, " he said. The thought uppermost in hismind was the reiterated arguments of the morning. "Have you abandage on?" he asked. 

"Yes, " said the Invisible Man. 

"Oh!" said Kemp, and then roused himself. "I say!" he said. "Butthis is nonsense. It's some trick. " He stepped forward suddenly, and his hand, extended towards the bandage, met invisible fingers. 

He recoiled at the touch and his colour changed. 

"Keep steady, Kemp, for God's sake! I want help badly. Stop!"

The hand gripped his arm. He struck at it. 

"Kemp!" cried the Voice. "Kemp! Keep steady!" and the griptightened. 

A frantic desire to free himself took possession of Kemp. The handof the bandaged arm gripped his shoulder, and he was suddenlytripped and flung backwards upon the bed. He opened his mouth toshout, and the corner of the sheet was thrust between his teeth. The Invisible Man had him down grimly, but his arms were free andhe struck and tried to kick savagely. 

"Listen to reason, will you?" said the Invisible Man, sticking tohim in spite of a pounding in the ribs. "By Heaven! you'll maddenme in a minute!

"Lie still, you fool!" bawled the Invisible Man in Kemp's ear. 

Kemp struggled for another moment and then lay still. 

"If you shout, I'll smash your face, " said the Invisible Man, relieving his mouth. 

"I'm an Invisible Man. It's no foolishness, and no magic. I reallyam an Invisible Man. And I want your help. I don't want to hurtyou, but if you behave like a frantic rustic, I must. Don't youremember me, Kemp? Griffin, of University College?"

"Let me get up, " said Kemp. "I'll stop where I am. And let me sitquiet for a minute. "

He sat up and felt his neck. 

"I am Griffin, of University College, and I have made myselfinvisible. I am just an ordinary man--a man you have known--madeinvisible. "

"Griffin?" said Kemp. 

"Griffin, " answered the Voice. A younger student than you were, almost an albino, six feet high, and broad, with a pink and whiteface and red eyes, who won the medal for chemistry. "

"I am confused, " said Kemp. "My brain is rioting. What has this todo with Griffin?"

"I _am_ Griffin. "

Kemp thought. "It's horrible, " he said. "But what devilry musthappen to make a man invisible?"

"It's no devilry. It's a process, sane and intelligible enough--"

"It's horrible!" said Kemp. "How on earth--?"

"It's horrible enough. But I'm wounded and in pain, and tired ... Great God! Kemp, you are a man. Take it steady. Give me some foodand drink, and let me sit down here. "

Kemp stared at the bandage as it moved across the room, then saw abasket chair dragged across the floor and come to rest near the bed. It creaked, and the seat was depressed the quarter of an inch or so. He rubbed his eyes and felt his neck again. "This beats ghosts, " hesaid, and laughed stupidly. 

"That's better. Thank Heaven, you're getting sensible!"

"Or silly, " said Kemp, and knuckled his eyes. 

"Give me some whiskey. I'm near dead. "

"It didn't feel so. Where are you? If I get up shall I run into you?_There_! all right. Whiskey? Here. Where shall I give it to you?"

The chair creaked and Kemp felt the glass drawn away from him. Helet go by an effort; his instinct was all against it. It came torest poised twenty inches above the front edge of the seat of thechair. He stared at it in infinite perplexity. "This is--thismust be--hypnotism. You have suggested you are invisible. "

"Nonsense, " said the Voice. 

"It's frantic. "

"Listen to me. "

"I demonstrated conclusively this morning, " began Kemp, "thatinvisibility--"

"Never mind what you've demonstrated!--I'm starving, " said theVoice, "and the night is chilly to a man without clothes. "

"Food?" said Kemp. 

The tumbler of whiskey tilted itself. "Yes, " said the Invisible Manrapping it down. "Have you a dressing-gown?"

Kemp made some exclamation in an undertone. He walked to a wardrobeand produced a robe of dingy scarlet. "This do?" he asked. It wastaken from him. It hung limp for a moment in mid-air, flutteredweirdly, stood full and decorous buttoning itself, and sat down inhis chair. "Drawers, socks, slippers would be a comfort, " said theUnseen, curtly. "And food. "

"Anything. But this is the insanest thing I ever was in, in mylife!"

He turned out his drawers for the articles, and then went downstairsto ransack his larder. He came back with some cold cutlets andbread, pulled up a light table, and placed them before his guest. "Never mind knives, " said his visitor, and a cutlet hung in mid-air, with a sound of gnawing. 

"Invisible!" said Kemp, and sat down on a bedroom chair. 

"I always like to get something about me before I eat, " said theInvisible Man, with a full mouth, eating greedily. "Queer fancy!"

"I suppose that wrist is all right, " said Kemp. 

"Trust me, " said the Invisible Man. 

"Of all the strange and wonderful--"

"Exactly. But it's odd I should blunder into _your_ house to get mybandaging. My first stroke of luck! Anyhow I meant to sleep in thishouse to-night. You must stand that! It's a filthy nuisance, myblood showing, isn't it? Quite a clot over there. Gets visible asit coagulates, I see. It's only the living tissue I've changed, andonly for as long as I'm alive.... I've been in the house three hours. "

"But how's it done?" began Kemp, in a tone of exasperation. "Confound it! The whole business--it's unreasonable frombeginning to end. "

"Quite reasonable, " said the Invisible Man. "Perfectly reasonable. "

He reached over and secured the whiskey bottle. Kemp stared at thedevouring dressing gown. A ray of candle-light penetrating a tornpatch in the right shoulder, made a triangle of light under theleft ribs. "What were the shots?" he asked. "How did the shootingbegin?"

"There was a real fool of a man--a sort of confederate ofmine--curse him!--who tried to steal my money. _Has_ done so. "

"Is _he_ invisible too?"

"No. "

"Well?"

"Can't I have some more to eat before I tell you all that? I'mhungry--in pain. And you want me to tell stories!"

Kemp got up. "_You_ didn't do any shooting?" he asked. 

"Not me, " said his visitor. "Some fool I'd never seen fired atrandom. A lot of them got scared. They all got scared at me. Cursethem!--I say--I want more to eat than this, Kemp. "

"I'll see what there is to eat downstairs, " said Kemp. "Not much, I'm afraid. "

After he had done eating, and he made a heavy meal, the InvisibleMan demanded a cigar. He bit the end savagely before Kemp couldfind a knife, and cursed when the outer leaf loosened. It wasstrange to see him smoking; his mouth, and throat, pharynx andnares, became visible as a sort of whirling smoke cast. 

"This blessed gift of smoking!" he said, and puffed vigorously. "I'm lucky to have fallen upon you, Kemp. You must help me. Fancytumbling on you just now! I'm in a devilish scrape--I've been mad, I think. The things I have been through! But we will do things yet. Let me tell you--"

He helped himself to more whiskey and soda. Kemp got up, lookedabout him, and fetched a glass from his spare room. "It's wild--butI suppose I may drink. "

"You haven't changed much, Kemp, these dozen years. You fair mendon't. Cool and methodical--after the first collapse. I must tellyou. We will work together!"

"But how was it all done?" said Kemp, "and how did you get likethis?"

"For God's sake, let me smoke in peace for a little while! And thenI will begin to tell you. "

But the story was not told that night. The Invisible Man's wristwas growing painful; he was feverish, exhausted, and his mind cameround to brood upon his chase down the hill and the struggle aboutthe inn. He spoke in fragments of Marvel, he smoked faster, hisvoice grew angry. Kemp tried to gather what he could. 

"He was afraid of me, I could see that he was afraid of me, " saidthe Invisible Man many times over. "He meant to give me the slip--hewas always casting about! What a fool I was!"

"The cur!

"I should have killed him!"

"Where did you get the money?" asked Kemp, abruptly. 

The Invisible Man was silent for a space. "I can't tell youto-night, " he said. 

He groaned suddenly and leant forward, supporting his invisiblehead on invisible hands. "Kemp, " he said, "I've had no sleep fornear three days, except a couple of dozes of an hour or so. Imust sleep soon. "

"Well, have my room--have this room. "

"But how can I sleep? If I sleep--he will get away. Ugh! Whatdoes it matter?"

"What's the shot wound?" asked Kemp, abruptly. 

"Nothing--scratch and blood. Oh, God! How I want sleep!"

"Why not?"

The Invisible Man appeared to be regarding Kemp. "Because I've aparticular objection to being caught by my fellow-men, " he saidslowly. 

Kemp started. 

"Fool that I am!" said the Invisible Man, striking the tablesmartly. "I've put the idea into your head. "

CHAPTER XVIII

THE INVISIBLE MAN SLEEPS

Exhausted and wounded as the Invisible Man was, he refused to acceptKemp's word that his freedom should be respected. He examined thetwo windows of the bedroom, drew up the blinds and opened thesashes, to confirm Kemp's statement that a retreat by them would bepossible. Outside the night was very quiet and still, and the newmoon was setting over the down. Then he examined the keys of thebedroom and the two dressing-room doors, to satisfy himself thatthese also could be made an assurance of freedom. Finally heexpressed himself satisfied. He stood on the hearth rug and Kempheard the sound of a yawn. 

"I'm sorry, " said the Invisible Man, "if I cannot tell you all thatI have done to-night. But I am worn out. It's grotesque, no doubt. It's horrible! But believe me, Kemp, in spite of your arguments ofthis morning, it is quite a possible thing. I have made a discovery. I meant to keep it to myself. I can't. I must have a partner. Andyou.... We can do such things ... But to-morrow. Now, Kemp, I feelas though I must sleep or perish. "

Kemp stood in the middle of the room staring at the headless garment. "I suppose I must leave you, " he said. "It's--incredible. Threethings happening like this, overturning all my preconceptions--wouldmake me insane. But it's real! Is there anything more that I canget you?"

"Only bid me good-night, " said Griffin. 

"Good-night, " said Kemp, and shook an invisible hand. He walkedsideways to the door. Suddenly the dressing-gown walked quicklytowards him. "Understand me!" said the dressing-gown. "No attemptsto hamper me, or capture me! Or--"

Kemp's face changed a little. "I thought I gave you my word, " hesaid. 

Kemp closed the door softly behind him, and the key was turned uponhim forthwith. Then, as he stood with an expression of passiveamazement on his face, the rapid feet came to the door of thedressing-room and that too was locked. Kemp slapped his brow withhis hand. "Am I dreaming? Has the world gone mad--or have I?"

He laughed, and put his hand to the locked door. "Barred out of myown bedroom, by a flagrant absurdity!" he said. 

He walked to the head of the staircase, turned, and stared at thelocked doors. "It's fact, " he said. He put his fingers to hisslightly bruised neck. "Undeniable fact!

"But--"

He shook his head hopelessly, turned, and went downstairs. 

He lit the dining-room lamp, got out a cigar, and began pacing theroom, ejaculating. Now and then he would argue with himself. 

"Invisible!" he said. 

"Is there such a thing as an invisible animal? ... In the sea, yes. Thousands--millions. All the larvae, all the little nauplii andtornarias, all the microscopic things, the jelly-fish. In the seathere are more things invisible than visible! I never thought ofthat before. And in the ponds too! All those little pond-lifethings--specks of colourless translucent jelly! But in air? No!

"It can't be. 

"But after all--why not?

"If a man was made of glass he would still be visible. "

His meditation became profound. The bulk of three cigars had passedinto the invisible or diffused as a white ash over the carpet beforehe spoke again. Then it was merely an exclamation. He turned aside, walked out of the room, and went into his little consulting-room andlit the gas there. It was a little room, because Dr. Kemp did notlive by practice, and in it were the day's newspapers. The morning'spaper lay carelessly opened and thrown aside. He caught it up, turned it over, and read the account of a "Strange Story from Iping"that the mariner at Port Stowe had spelt over so painfully to Mr. Marvel. Kemp read it swiftly. 

"Wrapped up!" said Kemp. "Disguised! Hiding it! 'No one seems tohave been aware of his misfortune. ' What the devil _is_ his game?"

He dropped the paper, and his eye went seeking. "Ah!" he said, andcaught up the _St. James' Gazette_, lying folded up as it arrived. "Now we shall get at the truth, " said Dr. Kemp. He rent the paperopen; a couple of columns confronted him. "An Entire Village inSussex goes Mad" was the heading. 

"Good Heavens!" said Kemp, reading eagerly an incredulous accountof the events in Iping, of the previous afternoon, that havealready been described. Over the leaf the report in the morningpaper had been reprinted. 

He re-read it. "Ran through the streets striking right and left. Jaffers insensible. Mr. Huxter in great pain--still unable todescribe what he saw. Painful humiliation--vicar. Woman ill withterror! Windows smashed. This extraordinary story probably afabrication. Too good not to print--_cum grano_!"

He dropped the paper and stared blankly in front of him. "Probablya fabrication!"

He caught up the paper again, and re-read the whole business. "Butwhen does the Tramp come in? Why the deuce was he chasing a tramp?"

He sat down abruptly on the surgical bench. "He's not onlyinvisible, " he said, "but he's mad! Homicidal!"

When dawn came to mingle its pallor with the lamp-light and cigarsmoke of the dining-room, Kemp was still pacing up and down, tryingto grasp the incredible. 

He was altogether too excited to sleep. His servants, descendingsleepily, discovered him, and were inclined to think thatover-study had worked this ill on him. He gave them extraordinarybut quite explicit instructions to lay breakfast for two in thebelvedere study--and then to confine themselves to the basementand ground-floor. Then he continued to pace the dining-room untilthe morning's paper came. That had much to say and little to tell, beyond the confirmation of the evening before, and a very badlywritten account of another remarkable tale from Port Burdock. Thisgave Kemp the essence of the happenings at the "Jolly Cricketers, "and the name of Marvel. "He has made me keep with him twenty-fourhours, " Marvel testified. Certain minor facts were added to theIping story, notably the cutting of the village telegraph-wire. But there was nothing to throw light on the connexion betweenthe Invisible Man and the Tramp; for Mr. Marvel had supplied noinformation about the three books, or the money with which he waslined. The incredulous tone had vanished and a shoal of reportersand inquirers were already at work elaborating the matter. 

Kemp read every scrap of the report and sent his housemaid out toget everyone of the morning papers she could. These also hedevoured. 

"He is invisible!" he said. "And it reads like rage growing tomania! The things he may do! The things he may do! And he'supstairs free as the air. What on earth ought I to do?"

"For instance, would it be a breach of faith if--? No. "

He went to a little untidy desk in the corner, and began a note. Hetore this up half written, and wrote another. He read it over andconsidered it. Then he took an envelope and addressed it to "ColonelAdye, Port Burdock. "

The Invisible Man awoke even as Kemp was doing this. He awoke in anevil temper, and Kemp, alert for every sound, heard his patteringfeet rush suddenly across the bedroom overhead. Then a chair wasflung over and the wash-hand stand tumbler smashed. Kemp hurriedupstairs and rapped eagerly. 

CHAPTER XIX

CERTAIN FIRST PRINCIPLES

"What's the matter?" asked Kemp, when the Invisible Man admitted him. 

"Nothing, " was the answer. 

"But, confound it! The smash?"

"Fit of temper, " said the Invisible Man. "Forgot this arm; and it'ssore. "

"You're rather liable to that sort of thing. "

"I am. "

Kemp walked across the room and picked up the fragments of brokenglass. "All the facts are out about you, " said Kemp, standing upwith the glass in his hand; "all that happened in Iping, and downthe hill. The world has become aware of its invisible citizen. Butno one knows you are here. "

The Invisible Man swore. 

"The secret's out. I gather it was a secret. I don't know what yourplans are, but of course I'm anxious to help you. "

The Invisible Man sat down on the bed. 

"There's breakfast upstairs, " said Kemp, speaking as easily aspossible, and he was delighted to find his strange guest rosewillingly. Kemp led the way up the narrow staircase to thebelvedere. 

"Before we can do anything else, " said Kemp, "I must understand alittle more about this invisibility of yours. " He had sat down, after one nervous glance out of the window, with the air of a manwho has talking to do. His doubts of the sanity of the entirebusiness flashed and vanished again as he looked across towhere Griffin sat at the breakfast-table--a headless, handlessdressing-gown, wiping unseen lips on a miraculously held serviette. 

"It's simple enough--and credible enough, " said Griffin, puttingthe serviette aside and leaning the invisible head on an invisiblehand. 

"No doubt, to you, but--" Kemp laughed. 

"Well, yes; to me it seemed wonderful at first, no doubt. But now, great God! ... But we will do great things yet! I came on the stufffirst at Chesilstowe. "

"Chesilstowe?"

"I went there after I left London. You know I dropped medicine andtook up physics? No; well, I did. _Light_ fascinated me. "

"Ah!"

"Optical density! The whole subject is a network of riddles--anetwork with solutions glimmering elusively through. And being buttwo-and-twenty and full of enthusiasm, I said, 'I will devote mylife to this. This is worth while. ' You know what fools we are attwo-and-twenty?"

"Fools then or fools now, " said Kemp. 

"As though knowing could be any satisfaction to a man!

"But I went to work--like a slave. And I had hardly worked andthought about the matter six months before light came through oneof the meshes suddenly--blindingly! I found a general principleof pigments and refraction--a formula, a geometrical expressioninvolving four dimensions. Fools, common men, even commonmathematicians, do not know anything of what some general expressionmay mean to the student of molecular physics. In the books--thebooks that tramp has hidden--there are marvels, miracles! But thiswas not a method, it was an idea, that might lead to a method bywhich it would be possible, without changing any other property ofmatter--except, in some instances colours--to lower the refractiveindex of a substance, solid or liquid, to that of air--so far as allpractical purposes are concerned. "

"Phew!" said Kemp. "That's odd! But still I don't see quite ... Ican understand that thereby you could spoil a valuable stone, butpersonal invisibility is a far cry. "

"Precisely, " said Griffin. "But consider, visibility depends on theaction of the visible bodies on light. Either a body absorbs light, or it reflects or refracts it, or does all these things. If itneither reflects nor refracts nor absorbs light, it cannot ofitself be visible. You see an opaque red box, for instance, becausethe colour absorbs some of the light and reflects the rest, all thered part of the light, to you. If it did not absorb any particularpart of the light, but reflected it all, then it would be a shiningwhite box. Silver! A diamond box would neither absorb much of thelight nor reflect much from the general surface, but just hereand there where the surfaces were favourable the light wouldbe reflected and refracted, so that you would get a brilliantappearance of flashing reflections and translucencies--a sort ofskeleton of light. A glass box would not be so brilliant, not soclearly visible, as a diamond box, because there would be lessrefraction and reflection. See that? From certain points of viewyou would see quite clearly through it. Some kinds of glass wouldbe more visible than others, a box of flint glass would be brighterthan a box of ordinary window glass. A box of very thin commonglass would be hard to see in a bad light, because it would absorbhardly any light and refract and reflect very little. And if youput a sheet of common white glass in water, still more if youput it in some denser liquid than water, it would vanish almostaltogether, because light passing from water to glass is onlyslightly refracted or reflected or indeed affected in any way. It is almost as invisible as a jet of coal gas or hydrogen is inair. And for precisely the same reason!"

"Yes, " said Kemp, "that is pretty plain sailing. "

"And here is another fact you will know to be true. If a sheet ofglass is smashed, Kemp, and beaten into a powder, it becomes muchmore visible while it is in the air; it becomes at last an opaquewhite powder. This is because the powdering multiplies the surfacesof the glass at which refraction and reflection occur. In the sheetof glass there are only two surfaces; in the powder the light isreflected or refracted by each grain it passes through, and verylittle gets right through the powder. But if the white powderedglass is put into water, it forthwith vanishes. The powdered glassand water have much the same refractive index; that is, the lightundergoes very little refraction or reflection in passing from oneto the other. 

"You make the glass invisible by putting it into a liquid of nearlythe same refractive index; a transparent thing becomes invisible ifit is put in any medium of almost the same refractive index. And ifyou will consider only a second, you will see also that the powderof glass might be made to vanish in air, if its refractive indexcould be made the same as that of air; for then there would be norefraction or reflection as the light passed from glass to air. "

"Yes, yes, " said Kemp. "But a man's not powdered glass!"

"No, " said Griffin. "He's more transparent!"

"Nonsense!"

"That from a doctor! How one forgets! Have you already forgottenyour physics, in ten years? Just think of all the things that aretransparent and seem not to be so. Paper, for instance, is made upof transparent fibres, and it is white and opaque only for the samereason that a powder of glass is white and opaque. Oil white paper, fill up the interstices between the particles with oil so that thereis no longer refraction or reflection except at the surfaces, andit becomes as transparent as glass. And not only paper, but cottonfibre, linen fibre, wool fibre, woody fibre, and _bone_, Kemp, _flesh_, Kemp, _hair_, Kemp, _nails_ and _nerves_, Kemp, in factthe whole fabric of a man except the red of his blood and the blackpigment of hair, are all made up of transparent, colourless tissue. So little suffices to make us visible one to the other. For themost part the fibres of a living creature are no more opaque thanwater. "

"Great Heavens!" cried Kemp. "Of course, of course! I was thinkingonly last night of the sea larvae and all jelly-fish!"

"_Now_ you have me! And all that I knew and had in mind a year afterI left London--six years ago. But I kept it to myself. I had to domy work under frightful disadvantages. Oliver, my professor, was ascientific bounder, a journalist by instinct, a thief of ideas--hewas always prying! And you know the knavish system of the scientificworld. I simply would not publish, and let him share my credit. Iwent on working; I got nearer and nearer making my formula into anexperiment, a reality. I told no living soul, because I meant toflash my work upon the world with crushing effect and become famousat a blow. I took up the question of pigments to fill up certaingaps. And suddenly, not by design but by accident, I made adiscovery in physiology. "

"Yes?"

"You know the red colouring matter of blood; it can be madewhite--colourless--and remain with all the functions it has now!"

Kemp gave a cry of incredulous amazement. 

The Invisible Man rose and began pacing the little study. "You maywell exclaim. I remember that night. It was late at night--in thedaytime one was bothered with the gaping, silly students--and Iworked then sometimes till dawn. It came suddenly, splendid andcomplete in my mind. I was alone; the laboratory was still, with thetall lights burning brightly and silently. In all my great momentsI have been alone. 'One could make an animal--a tissue--transparent!One could make it invisible! All except the pigments--I could beinvisible!' I said, suddenly realising what it meant to be an albinowith such knowledge. It was overwhelming. I left the filtering I wasdoing, and went and stared out of the great window at the stars. 'I could be invisible!' I repeated. 

"To do such a thing would be to transcend magic. And I beheld, unclouded by doubt, a magnificent vision of all that invisibilitymight mean to a man--the mystery, the power, the freedom. DrawbacksI saw none. You have only to think! And I, a shabby, poverty-struck, hemmed-in demonstrator, teaching fools in a provincial college, might suddenly become--this. I ask you, Kemp if _you_ ... Anyone, Itell you, would have flung himself upon that research. And I workedthree years, and every mountain of difficulty I toiled over showedanother from its summit. The infinite details! And the exasperation!A professor, a provincial professor, always prying. 'When are yougoing to publish this work of yours?' was his everlasting question. And the students, the cramped means! Three years I had of it--

"And after three years of secrecy and exasperation, I found that tocomplete it was impossible--impossible. "

"How?" asked Kemp. 

"Money, " said the Invisible Man, and went again to stare out of thewindow. 

He turned around abruptly. "I robbed the old man--robbed myfather. 

"The money was not his, and he shot himself. "

CHAPTER XX

AT THE HOUSE IN GREAT PORTLAND STREET

For a moment Kemp sat in silence, staring at the back of theheadless figure at the window. Then he started, struck by a thought, rose, took the Invisible Man's arm, and turned him away from theoutlook. 

"You are tired, " he said, "and while I sit, you walk about. Havemy chair. "

He placed himself between Griffin and the nearest window. 

For a space Griffin sat silent, and then he resumed abruptly:

"I had left the Chesilstowe cottage already, " he said, "when thathappened. It was last December. I had taken a room in London, alarge unfurnished room in a big ill-managed lodging-house in a slumnear Great Portland Street. The room was soon full of the appliancesI had bought with his money; the work was going on steadily, successfully, drawing near an end. I was like a man emerging from athicket, and suddenly coming on some unmeaning tragedy. I went tobury him. My mind was still on this research, and I did not lifta finger to save his character. I remember the funeral, the cheaphearse, the scant ceremony, the windy frost-bitten hillside, and theold college friend of his who read the service over him--a shabby, black, bent old man with a snivelling cold. 

"I remember walking back to the empty house, through the place thathad once been a village and was now patched and tinkered by thejerry builders into the ugly likeness of a town. Every way theroads ran out at last into the desecrated fields and ended inrubble heaps and rank wet weeds. I remember myself as a gaunt blackfigure, going along the slippery, shiny pavement, and the strangesense of detachment I felt from the squalid respectability, thesordid commercialism of the place. 

"I did not feel a bit sorry for my father. He seemed to me to bethe victim of his own foolish sentimentality. The current cantrequired my attendance at his funeral, but it was really not myaffair. 

"But going along the High Street, my old life came back to mefor a space, for I met the girl I had known ten years since. Our eyes met. 

"Something moved me to turn back and talk to her. She was a veryordinary person. 

"It was all like a dream, that visit to the old places. I did notfeel then that I was lonely, that I had come out from the worldinto a desolate place. I appreciated my loss of sympathy, but I putit down to the general inanity of things. Re-entering my roomseemed like the recovery of reality. There were the things I knewand loved. There stood the apparatus, the experiments arranged andwaiting. And now there was scarcely a difficulty left, beyond theplanning of details. 

"I will tell you, Kemp, sooner or later, all the complicatedprocesses. We need not go into that now. For the most part, savingcertain gaps I chose to remember, they are written in cypher inthose books that tramp has hidden. We must hunt him down. We mustget those books again. But the essential phase was to place thetransparent object whose refractive index was to be lowered betweentwo radiating centres of a sort of ethereal vibration, of which Iwill tell you more fully later. No, not those Roentgen vibrations--Idon't know that these others of mine have been described. Yetthey are obvious enough. I needed two little dynamos, and these Iworked with a cheap gas engine. My first experiment was with a bitof white wool fabric. It was the strangest thing in the world tosee it in the flicker of the flashes soft and white, and then towatch it fade like a wreath of smoke and vanish. 

"I could scarcely believe I had done it. I put my hand into theemptiness, and there was the thing as solid as ever. I felt itawkwardly, and threw it on the floor. I had a little troublefinding it again. 

"And then came a curious experience. I heard a miaow behind me, andturning, saw a lean white cat, very dirty, on the cistern coveroutside the window. A thought came into my head. 'Everything readyfor you, ' I said, and went to the window, opened it, and calledsoftly. She came in, purring--the poor beast was starving--andI gave her some milk. All my food was in a cupboard in thecorner of the room. After that she went smelling round the room, evidently with the idea of making herself at home. The invisiblerag upset her a bit; you should have seen her spit at it! But Imade her comfortable on the pillow of my truckle-bed. And I gaveher butter to get her to wash. "

"And you processed her?"

"I processed her. But giving drugs to a cat is no joke, Kemp! Andthe process failed. "

"Failed!"

"In two particulars. These were the claws and the pigment stuff, what is it?--at the back of the eye in a cat. You know?"

"_Tapetum_. "

"Yes, the _tapetum_. It didn't go. After I'd given the stuff tobleach the blood and done certain other things to her, I gave thebeast opium, and put her and the pillow she was sleeping on, on theapparatus. And after all the rest had faded and vanished, thereremained two little ghosts of her eyes. "

"Odd!"

"I can't explain it. She was bandaged and clamped, of course--soI had her safe; but she woke while she was still misty, and miaoweddismally, and someone came knocking. It was an old woman fromdownstairs, who suspected me of vivisecting--a drink-sodden oldcreature, with only a white cat to care for in all the world. Iwhipped out some chloroform, applied it, and answered the door. 'Did I hear a cat?' she asked. 'My cat?' 'Not here, ' said I, verypolitely. She was a little doubtful and tried to peer past me intothe room; strange enough to her no doubt--bare walls, uncurtainedwindows, truckle-bed, with the gas engine vibrating, and theseethe of the radiant points, and that faint ghastly stinging ofchloroform in the air. She had to be satisfied at last and wentaway again. "

"How long did it take?" asked Kemp. 

"Three or four hours--the cat. The bones and sinews and the fatwere the last to go, and the tips of the coloured hairs. And, as Isay, the back part of the eye, tough, iridescent stuff it is, wouldn't go at all. 

"It was night outside long before the business was over, and nothingwas to be seen but the dim eyes and the claws. I stopped the gasengine, felt for and stroked the beast, which was still insensible, and then, being tired, left it sleeping on the invisible pillow andwent to bed. I found it hard to sleep. I lay awake thinking weakaimless stuff, going over the experiment over and over again, ordreaming feverishly of things growing misty and vanishing about me, until everything, the ground I stood on, vanished, and so I came tothat sickly falling nightmare one gets. About two, the cat beganmiaowing about the room. I tried to hush it by talking to it, andthen I decided to turn it out. I remember the shock I had whenstriking a light--there were just the round eyes shining green--andnothing round them. I would have given it milk, but I hadn't any. Itwouldn't be quiet, it just sat down and miaowed at the door. I triedto catch it, with an idea of putting it out of the window, but itwouldn't be caught, it vanished. Then it began miaowing in differentparts of the room. At last I opened the window and made a bustle. Isuppose it went out at last. I never saw any more of it. 

"Then--Heaven knows why--I fell thinking of my father's funeralagain, and the dismal windy hillside, until the day had come. Ifound sleeping was hopeless, and, locking my door after me, wandered out into the morning streets. "

"You don't mean to say there's an invisible cat at large!" saidKemp. 

"If it hasn't been killed, " said the Invisible Man. "Why not?"

"Why not?" said Kemp. "I didn't mean to interrupt. "

"It's very probably been killed, " said the Invisible Man. "Itwas alive four days after, I know, and down a grating in GreatTitchfield Street; because I saw a crowd round the place, tryingto see whence the miaowing came. "

He was silent for the best part of a minute. Then he resumedabruptly:

"I remember that morning before the change very vividly. I must havegone up Great Portland Street. I remember the barracks in AlbanyStreet, and the horse soldiers coming out, and at last I found thesummit of Primrose Hill. It was a sunny day in January--one of thosesunny, frosty days that came before the snow this year. My wearybrain tried to formulate the position, to plot out a plan of action. 

"I was surprised to find, now that my prize was within my grasp, howinconclusive its attainment seemed. As a matter of fact I was workedout; the intense stress of nearly four years' continuous work leftme incapable of any strength of feeling. I was apathetic, and Itried in vain to recover the enthusiasm of my first inquiries, the passion of discovery that had enabled me to compass even thedownfall of my father's grey hairs. Nothing seemed to matter. I sawpretty clearly this was a transient mood, due to overwork and wantof sleep, and that either by drugs or rest it would be possible torecover my energies. 

"All I could think clearly was that the thing had to be carriedthrough; the fixed idea still ruled me. And soon, for the money Ihad was almost exhausted. I looked about me at the hillside, withchildren playing and girls watching them, and tried to think of allthe fantastic advantages an invisible man would have in the world. After a time I crawled home, took some food and a strong dose ofstrychnine, and went to sleep in my clothes on my unmade bed. Strychnine is a grand tonic, Kemp, to take the flabbiness out ofa man. "

"It's the devil, " said Kemp. "It's the palaeolithic in a bottle. "

"I awoke vastly invigorated and rather irritable. You know?"

"I know the stuff. "

"And there was someone rapping at the door. It was my landlordwith threats and inquiries, an old Polish Jew in a long grey coatand greasy slippers. I had been tormenting a cat in the night, hewas sure--the old woman's tongue had been busy. He insisted onknowing all about it. The laws in this country against vivisectionwere very severe--he might be liable. I denied the cat. Then thevibration of the little gas engine could be felt all over thehouse, he said. That was true, certainly. He edged round me intothe room, peering about over his German-silver spectacles, and asudden dread came into my mind that he might carry away somethingof my secret. I tried to keep between him and the concentratingapparatus I had arranged, and that only made him more curious. Whatwas I doing? Why was I always alone and secretive? Was it legal?Was it dangerous? I paid nothing but the usual rent. His had alwaysbeen a most respectable house--in a disreputable neighbourhood. Suddenly my temper gave way. I told him to get out. He began toprotest, to jabber of his right of entry. In a moment I had him bythe collar; something ripped, and he went spinning out into his ownpassage. I slammed and locked the door and sat down quivering. 

"He made a fuss outside, which I disregarded, and after a time hewent away. 

"But this brought matters to a crisis. I did not know what hewould do, nor even what he had the power to do. To move to freshapartments would have meant delay; altogether I had barely twentypounds left in the world, for the most part in a bank--and Icould not afford that. Vanish! It was irresistible. Then therewould be an inquiry, the sacking of my room. 

"At the thought of the possibility of my work being exposed orinterrupted at its very climax, I became very angry and active. Ihurried out with my three books of notes, my cheque-book--the tramphas them now--and directed them from the nearest Post Office to ahouse of call for letters and parcels in Great Portland Street. Itried to go out noiselessly. Coming in, I found my landlord goingquietly upstairs; he had heard the door close, I suppose. You wouldhave laughed to see him jump aside on the landing as came tearingafter him. He glared at me as I went by him, and I made the housequiver with the slamming of my door. I heard him come shuffling upto my floor, hesitate, and go down. I set to work upon mypreparations forthwith. 

"It was all done that evening and night. While I was still sittingunder the sickly, drowsy influence of the drugs that decolouriseblood, there came a repeated knocking at the door. It ceased, footsteps went away and returned, and the knocking was resumed. There was an attempt to push something under the door--a bluepaper. Then in a fit of irritation I rose and went and flung thedoor wide open. 'Now then?' said I. 

"It was my landlord, with a notice of ejectment or something. Heheld it out to me, saw something odd about my hands, I expect, andlifted his eyes to my face. 

"For a moment he gaped. Then he gave a sort of inarticulate cry, dropped candle and writ together, and went blundering down the darkpassage to the stairs. I shut the door, locked it, and went to thelooking-glass. Then I understood his terror.... My face waswhite--like white stone. 

"But it was all horrible. I had not expected the suffering. A nightof racking anguish, sickness and fainting. I set my teeth, though myskin was presently afire, all my body afire; but I lay there likegrim death. I understood now how it was the cat had howled until Ichloroformed it. Lucky it was I lived alone and untended in my room. There were times when I sobbed and groaned and talked. But I stuckto it.... I became insensible and woke languid in the darkness. 

"The pain had passed. I thought I was killing myself and I did notcare. I shall never forget that dawn, and the strange horror ofseeing that my hands had become as clouded glass, and watching themgrow clearer and thinner as the day went by, until at last I couldsee the sickly disorder of my room through them, though I closed mytransparent eyelids. My limbs became glassy, the bones and arteriesfaded, vanished, and the little white nerves went last. I grittedmy teeth and stayed there to the end. At last only the dead tips ofthe fingernails remained, pallid and white, and the brown stain ofsome acid upon my fingers. 

"I struggled up. At first I was as incapable as a swathedinfant--stepping with limbs I could not see. I was weak and veryhungry. I went and stared at nothing in my shaving-glass, at nothingsave where an attenuated pigment still remained behind the retina ofmy eyes, fainter than mist. I had to hang on to the table and pressmy forehead against the glass. 

"It was only by a frantic effort of will that I dragged myself backto the apparatus and completed the process. 

"I slept during the forenoon, pulling the sheet over my eyes to shutout the light, and about midday I was awakened again by a knocking. My strength had returned. I sat up and listened and heard awhispering. I sprang to my feet and as noiselessly as possible beganto detach the connections of my apparatus, and to distribute itabout the room, so as to destroy the suggestions of its arrangement. Presently the knocking was renewed and voices called, first mylandlord's, and then two others. To gain time I answered them. Theinvisible rag and pillow came to hand and I opened the window andpitched them out on to the cistern cover. As the window opened, aheavy crash came at the door. Someone had charged it with the ideaof smashing the lock. But the stout bolts I had screwed up somedays before stopped him. That startled me, made me angry. I beganto tremble and do things hurriedly. 

"I tossed together some loose paper, straw, packing paper and soforth, in the middle of the room, and turned on the gas. Heavyblows began to rain upon the door. I could not find the matches. Ibeat my hands on the wall with rage. I turned down the gas again, stepped out of the window on the cistern cover, very softly loweredthe sash, and sat down, secure and invisible, but quivering withanger, to watch events. They split a panel, I saw, and in anothermoment they had broken away the staples of the bolts and stood inthe open doorway. It was the landlord and his two step-sons, sturdyyoung men of three or four and twenty. Behind them fluttered theold hag of a woman from downstairs. 

"You may imagine their astonishment to find the room empty. One ofthe younger men rushed to the window at once, flung it up and staredout. His staring eyes and thick-lipped bearded face came a footfrom my face. I was half minded to hit his silly countenance, but Iarrested my doubled fist. He stared right through me. So did theothers as they joined him. The old man went and peered under thebed, and then they all made a rush for the cupboard. They had toargue about it at length in Yiddish and Cockney English. Theyconcluded I had not answered them, that their imagination haddeceived them. A feeling of extraordinary elation took the placeof my anger as I sat outside the window and watched these fourpeople--for the old lady came in, glancing suspiciously about herlike a cat, trying to understand the riddle of my behaviour. 

"The old man, so far as I could understand his _patois_, agreed withthe old lady that I was a vivisectionist. The sons protested ingarbled English that I was an electrician, and appealed to thedynamos and radiators. They were all nervous about my arrival, although I found subsequently that they had bolted the front door. The old lady peered into the cupboard and under the bed, and one ofthe young men pushed up the register and stared up the chimney. Oneof my fellow lodgers, a coster-monger who shared the opposite roomwith a butcher, appeared on the landing, and he was called in andtold incoherent things. 

"It occurred to me that the radiators, if they fell into the handsof some acute well-educated person, would give me away too much, and watching my opportunity, I came into the room and tilted one ofthe little dynamos off its fellow on which it was standing, andsmashed both apparatus. Then, while they were trying to explain thesmash, I dodged out of the room and went softly downstairs. 

"I went into one of the sitting-rooms and waited until they camedown, still speculating and argumentative, all a little disappointedat finding no 'horrors, ' and all a little puzzled how they stoodlegally towards me. Then I slipped up again with a box of matches, fired my heap of paper and rubbish, put the chairs and beddingthereby, led the gas to the affair, by means of an india-rubbertube, and waving a farewell to the room left it for the last time. "

"You fired the house!" exclaimed Kemp. 

"Fired the house. It was the only way to cover my trail--and nodoubt it was insured. I slipped the bolts of the front door quietlyand went out into the street. I was invisible, and I was only justbeginning to realise the extraordinary advantage my invisibilitygave me. My head was already teeming with plans of all the wild andwonderful things I had now impunity to do. "

CHAPTER XXI

IN OXFORD STREET

"In going downstairs the first time I found an unexpected difficultybecause I could not see my feet; indeed I stumbled twice, and therewas an unaccustomed clumsiness in gripping the bolt. By not lookingdown, however, I managed to walk on the level passably well. 

"My mood, I say, was one of exaltation. I felt as a seeing manmight do, with padded feet and noiseless clothes, in a city of theblind. I experienced a wild impulse to jest, to startle people, toclap men on the back, fling people's hats astray, and generallyrevel in my extraordinary advantage. 

"But hardly had I emerged upon Great Portland Street, however (mylodging was close to the big draper's shop there), when I heard aclashing concussion and was hit violently behind, and turning sawa man carrying a basket of soda-water syphons, and looking inamazement at his burden. Although the blow had really hurt me, Ifound something so irresistible in his astonishment that I laughedaloud. 'The devil's in the basket, ' I said, and suddenly twistedit out of his hand. He let go incontinently, and I swung the wholeweight into the air. 

"But a fool of a cabman, standing outside a public house, made asudden rush for this, and his extending fingers took me withexcruciating violence under the ear. I let the whole down with asmash on the cabman, and then, with shouts and the clatter of feetabout me, people coming out of shops, vehicles pulling up, Irealised what I had done for myself, and cursing my folly, backedagainst a shop window and prepared to dodge out of the confusion. Ina moment I should be wedged into a crowd and inevitably discovered. I pushed by a butcher boy, who luckily did not turn to see thenothingness that shoved him aside, and dodged behind the cab-man'sfour-wheeler. I do not know how they settled the business, I hurriedstraight across the road, which was happily clear, and hardlyheeding which way I went, in the fright of detection the incidenthad given me, plunged into the afternoon throng of Oxford Street. 

"I tried to get into the stream of people, but they were too thickfor me, and in a moment my heels were being trodden upon. I took tothe gutter, the roughness of which I found painful to my feet, andforthwith the shaft of a crawling hansom dug me forcibly under theshoulder blade, reminding me that I was already bruised severely. Istaggered out of the way of the cab, avoided a perambulator by aconvulsive movement, and found myself behind the hansom. A happythought saved me, and as this drove slowly along I followed in itsimmediate wake, trembling and astonished at the turn of myadventure. And not only trembling, but shivering. It was a brightday in January and I was stark naked and the thin slime of mud thatcovered the road was freezing. Foolish as it seems to me now, I hadnot reckoned that, transparent or not, I was still amenable to theweather and all its consequences. 

"Then suddenly a bright idea came into my head. I ran round and gotinto the cab. And so, shivering, scared, and sniffing with the firstintimations of a cold, and with the bruises in the small of my backgrowing upon my attention, I drove slowly along Oxford Street andpast Tottenham Court Road. My mood was as different from that inwhich I had sallied forth ten minutes ago as it is possible toimagine. This invisibility indeed! The one thought that possessedme was--how was I to get out of the scrape I was in. 

"We crawled past Mudie's, and there a tall woman with five or sixyellow-labelled books hailed my cab, and I sprang out just in timeto escape her, shaving a railway van narrowly in my flight. I madeoff up the roadway to Bloomsbury Square, intending to strike northpast the Museum and so get into the quiet district. I was nowcruelly chilled, and the strangeness of my situation so unnerved methat I whimpered as I ran. At the northward corner of the Square alittle white dog ran out of the Pharmaceutical Society's offices, and incontinently made for me, nose down. 

"I had never realised it before, but the nose is to the mind of adog what the eye is to the mind of a seeing man. Dogs perceive thescent of a man moving as men perceive his vision. This brute beganbarking and leaping, showing, as it seemed to me, only too plainlythat he was aware of me. I crossed Great Russell Street, glancingover my shoulder as I did so, and went some way along MontagueStreet before I realised what I was running towards. 

"Then I became aware of a blare of music, and looking along thestreet saw a number of people advancing out of Russell Square, redshirts, and the banner of the Salvation Army to the fore. Such acrowd, chanting in the roadway and scoffing on the pavement, Icould not hope to penetrate, and dreading to go back and fartherfrom home again, and deciding on the spur of the moment, I ran upthe white steps of a house facing the museum railings, and stoodthere until the crowd should have passed. Happily the dog stoppedat the noise of the band too, hesitated, and turned tail, runningback to Bloomsbury Square again. 

"On came the band, bawling with unconscious irony some hymn about'When shall we see His face?' and it seemed an interminable timeto me before the tide of the crowd washed along the pavement by me. Thud, thud, thud, came the drum with a vibrating resonance, and forthe moment I did not notice two urchins stopping at the railings byme. 'See 'em, ' said one. 'See what?' said the other. 'Why--themfootmarks--bare. Like what you makes in mud. '

"I looked down and saw the youngsters had stopped and were gapingat the muddy footmarks I had left behind me up the newly whitenedsteps. The passing people elbowed and jostled them, but theirconfounded intelligence was arrested. 'Thud, thud, thud, when, thud, shall we see, thud, his face, thud, thud. ' 'There's abarefoot man gone up them steps, or I don't know nothing, ' saidone. 'And he ain't never come down again. And his foot wasa-bleeding. '

"The thick of the crowd had already passed. 'Looky there, Ted, 'quoth the younger of the detectives, with the sharpness of surprisein his voice, and pointed straight to my feet. I looked down andsaw at once the dim suggestion of their outline sketched insplashes of mud. For a moment I was paralysed. 

"'Why, that's rum, ' said the elder. 'Dashed rum! It's just likethe ghost of a foot, ain't it?' He hesitated and advanced withoutstretched hand. A man pulled up short to see what he wascatching, and then a girl. In another moment he would have touchedme. Then I saw what to do. I made a step, the boy started back withan exclamation, and with a rapid movement I swung myself over intothe portico of the next house. But the smaller boy was sharp-eyedenough to follow the movement, and before I was well down thesteps and upon the pavement, he had recovered from his momentaryastonishment and was shouting out that the feet had gone over thewall. 

"They rushed round and saw my new footmarks flash into being on thelower step and upon the pavement. 'What's up?' asked someone. 'Feet! Look! Feet running!'

"Everybody in the road, except my three pursuers, was pouring alongafter the Salvation Army, and this blow not only impeded me but them. There was an eddy of surprise and interrogation. At the cost ofbowling over one young fellow I got through, and in another momentI was rushing headlong round the circuit of Russell Square, withsix or seven astonished people following my footmarks. There wasno time for explanation, or else the whole host would have beenafter me. 

"Twice I doubled round corners, thrice I crossed the road and cameback upon my tracks, and then, as my feet grew hot and dry, thedamp impressions began to fade. At last I had a breathing spaceand rubbed my feet clean with my hands, and so got away altogether. The last I saw of the chase was a little group of a dozen peopleperhaps, studying with infinite perplexity a slowly dryingfootprint that had resulted from a puddle in Tavistock Square, afootprint as isolated and incomprehensible to them as Crusoe'ssolitary discovery. 

"This running warmed me to a certain extent, and I went on with abetter courage through the maze of less frequented roads that runshereabouts. My back had now become very stiff and sore, my tonsilswere painful from the cabman's fingers, and the skin of my neckhad been scratched by his nails; my feet hurt exceedingly and Iwas lame from a little cut on one foot. I saw in time a blindman approaching me, and fled limping, for I feared his subtleintuitions. Once or twice accidental collisions occurred and I leftpeople amazed, with unaccountable curses ringing in their ears. Then came something silent and quiet against my face, and acrossthe Square fell a thin veil of slowly falling flakes of snow. I hadcaught a cold, and do as I would I could not avoid an occasionalsneeze. And every dog that came in sight, with its pointing noseand curious sniffing, was a terror to me. 

"Then came men and boys running, first one and then others, andshouting as they ran. It was a fire. They ran in the direction ofmy lodging, and looking back down a street I saw a mass of blacksmoke streaming up above the roofs and telephone wires. It was mylodging burning; my clothes, my apparatus, all my resources indeed, except my cheque-book and the three volumes of memoranda thatawaited me in Great Portland Street, were there. Burning! I hadburnt my boats--if ever a man did! The place was blazing. "

The Invisible Man paused and thought. Kemp glanced nervously out ofthe window. "Yes?" he said. "Go on. "

CHAPTER XXII

IN THE EMPORIUM

"So last January, with the beginning of a snowstorm in the airabout me--and if it settled on me it would betray me!--weary, cold, painful, inexpressibly wretched, and still but half convincedof my invisible quality, I began this new life to which I amcommitted. I had no refuge, no appliances, no human being in theworld in whom I could confide. To have told my secret would havegiven me away--made a mere show and rarity of me. Nevertheless, Iwas half-minded to accost some passer-by and throw myself upon hismercy. But I knew too clearly the terror and brutal cruelty myadvances would evoke. I made no plans in the street. My sole objectwas to get shelter from the snow, to get myself covered and warm;then I might hope to plan. But even to me, an Invisible Man, therows of London houses stood latched, barred, and boltedimpregnably. 

"Only one thing could I see clearly before me--the cold exposureand misery of the snowstorm and the night. 

"And then I had a brilliant idea. I turned down one of the roadsleading from Gower Street to Tottenham Court Road, and found myselfoutside Omniums, the big establishment where everything is to bebought--you know the place: meat, grocery, linen, furniture, clothing, oil paintings even--a huge meandering collection of shopsrather than a shop. I had thought I should find the doors open, butthey were closed, and as I stood in the wide entrance a carriagestopped outside, and a man in uniform--you know the kind ofpersonage with 'Omnium' on his cap--flung open the door. I contrivedto enter, and walking down the shop--it was a department where theywere selling ribbons and gloves and stockings and that kind ofthing--came to a more spacious region devoted to picnic baskets andwicker furniture. 

"I did not feel safe there, however; people were going to and fro, and I prowled restlessly about until I came upon a huge section inan upper floor containing multitudes of bedsteads, and over these Iclambered, and found a resting-place at last among a huge pile offolded flock mattresses. The place was already lit up and agreeablywarm, and I decided to remain where I was, keeping a cautiouseye on the two or three sets of shopmen and customers who weremeandering through the place, until closing time came. Then Ishould be able, I thought, to rob the place for food and clothing, and disguised, prowl through it and examine its resources, perhapssleep on some of the bedding. That seemed an acceptable plan. My idea was to procure clothing to make myself a muffled butacceptable figure, to get money, and then to recover my booksand parcels where they awaited me, take a lodging somewhere andelaborate plans for the complete realisation of the advantages myinvisibility gave me (as I still imagined) over my fellow-men. 

"Closing time arrived quickly enough. It could not have been morethan an hour after I took up my position on the mattresses before Inoticed the blinds of the windows being drawn, and customers beingmarched doorward. And then a number of brisk young men began withremarkable alacrity to tidy up the goods that remained disturbed. Ileft my lair as the crowds diminished, and prowled cautiously outinto the less desolate parts of the shop. I was really surprised toobserve how rapidly the young men and women whipped away the goodsdisplayed for sale during the day. All the boxes of goods, thehanging fabrics, the festoons of lace, the boxes of sweets in thegrocery section, the displays of this and that, were being whippeddown, folded up, slapped into tidy receptacles, and everything thatcould not be taken down and put away had sheets of some coarsestuff like sacking flung over them. Finally all the chairs wereturned up on to the counters, leaving the floor clear. Directlyeach of these young people had done, he or she made promptly forthe door with such an expression of animation as I have rarelyobserved in a shop assistant before. Then came a lot of youngstersscattering sawdust and carrying pails and brooms. I had to dodgeto get out of the way, and as it was, my ankle got stung with thesawdust. For some time, wandering through the swathed and darkeneddepartments, I could hear the brooms at work. And at last a goodhour or more after the shop had been closed, came a noise oflocking doors. Silence came upon the place, and I found myselfwandering through the vast and intricate shops, galleries, show-roomsof the place, alone. It was very still; in one place I rememberpassing near one of the Tottenham Court Road entrances and listeningto the tapping of boot-heels of the passers-by. 

"My first visit was to the place where I had seen stockings andgloves for sale. It was dark, and I had the devil of a hunt aftermatches, which I found at last in the drawer of the little cashdesk. Then I had to get a candle. I had to tear down wrappings andransack a number of boxes and drawers, but at last I managed to turnout what I sought; the box label called them lambswool pants, andlambswool vests. Then socks, a thick comforter, and then I went tothe clothing place and got trousers, a lounge jacket, an overcoatand a slouch hat--a clerical sort of hat with the brim turned down. I began to feel a human being again, and my next thought was food. 

"Upstairs was a refreshment department, and there I got cold meat. There was coffee still in the urn, and I lit the gas and warmed itup again, and altogether I did not do badly. Afterwards, prowlingthrough the place in search of blankets--I had to put up at lastwith a heap of down quilts--I came upon a grocery section witha lot of chocolate and candied fruits, more than was good for meindeed--and some white burgundy. And near that was a toy department, and I had a brilliant idea. I found some artificial noses--dummynoses, you know, and I thought of dark spectacles. But Omniums hadno optical department. My nose had been a difficulty indeed--I hadthought of paint. But the discovery set my mind running on wigs andmasks and the like. Finally I went to sleep in a heap of downquilts, very warm and comfortable. 

"My last thoughts before sleeping were the most agreeable I had hadsince the change. I was in a state of physical serenity, and thatwas reflected in my mind. I thought that I should be able to slipout unobserved in the morning with my clothes upon me, muffling myface with a white wrapper I had taken, purchase, with the money Ihad taken, spectacles and so forth, and so complete my disguise. Ilapsed into disorderly dreams of all the fantastic things that hadhappened during the last few days. I saw the ugly little Jew of alandlord vociferating in his rooms; I saw his two sons marvelling, and the wrinkled old woman's gnarled face as she asked for her cat. I experienced again the strange sensation of seeing the clothdisappear, and so I came round to the windy hillside and thesniffing old clergyman mumbling 'Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, ' at my father's open grave. 

"'You also, ' said a voice, and suddenly I was being forced towardsthe grave. I struggled, shouted, appealed to the mourners, but theycontinued stonily following the service; the old clergyman, too, never faltered droning and sniffing through the ritual. I realisedI was invisible and inaudible, that overwhelming forces had theirgrip on me. I struggled in vain, I was forced over the brink, thecoffin rang hollow as I fell upon it, and the gravel came flyingafter me in spadefuls. Nobody heeded me, nobody was aware of me. Imade convulsive struggles and awoke. 

"The pale London dawn had come, the place was full of a chilly greylight that filtered round the edges of the window blinds. I sat up, and for a time I could not think where this ample apartment, withits counters, its piles of rolled stuff, its heap of quilts andcushions, its iron pillars, might be. Then, as recollection cameback to me, I heard voices in conversation. 

"Then far down the place, in the brighter light of some departmentwhich had already raised its blinds, I saw two men approaching. Iscrambled to my feet, looking about me for some way of escape, andeven as I did so the sound of my movement made them aware of me. Isuppose they saw merely a figure moving quietly and quickly away. 'Who's that?' cried one, and 'Stop, there!' shouted the other. Idashed around a corner and came full tilt--a faceless figure, mind you!--on a lanky lad of fifteen. He yelled and I bowled himover, rushed past him, turned another corner, and by a happyinspiration threw myself behind a counter. In another moment feetwent running past and I heard voices shouting, 'All hands to thedoors!' asking what was 'up, ' and giving one another advice how tocatch me. 

"Lying on the ground, I felt scared out of my wits. But--odd asit may seem--it did not occur to me at the moment to take off myclothes as I should have done. I had made up my mind, I suppose, toget away in them, and that ruled me. And then down the vista of thecounters came a bawling of 'Here he is!'

"I sprang to my feet, whipped a chair off the counter, and sent itwhirling at the fool who had shouted, turned, came into anotherround a corner, sent him spinning, and rushed up the stairs. Hekept his footing, gave a view hallo, and came up the staircase hotafter me. Up the staircase were piled a multitude of thosebright-coloured pot things--what are they?"

"Art pots, " suggested Kemp. 

"That's it! Art pots. Well, I turned at the top step and swunground, plucked one out of a pile and smashed it on his silly headas he came at me. The whole pile of pots went headlong, and I heardshouting and footsteps running from all parts. I made a mad rushfor the refreshment place, and there was a man in white like a mancook, who took up the chase. I made one last desperate turn andfound myself among lamps and ironmongery. I went behind the counterof this, and waited for my cook, and as he bolted in at the head ofthe chase, I doubled him up with a lamp. Down he went, and Icrouched down behind the counter and began whipping off my clothesas fast as I could. Coat, jacket, trousers, shoes were all right, but a lambswool vest fits a man like a skin. I heard more mencoming, my cook was lying quiet on the other side of the counter, stunned or scared speechless, and I had to make another dash forit, like a rabbit hunted out of a wood-pile. 

"'This way, policeman!' I heard someone shouting. I found myself inmy bedstead storeroom again, and at the end of a wilderness ofwardrobes. I rushed among them, went flat, got rid of my vest afterinfinite wriggling, and stood a free man again, panting and scared, as the policeman and three of the shopmen came round the corner. They made a rush for the vest and pants, and collared the trousers. 'He's dropping his plunder, ' said one of the young men. 'He _must_be somewhere here. '

"But they did not find me all the same. 

"I stood watching them hunt for me for a time, and cursing myill-luck in losing the clothes. Then I went into the refreshment-room, drank a little milk I found there, and sat down by the fire toconsider my position. 

"In a little while two assistants came in and began to talk overthe business very excitedly and like the fools they were. I heard amagnified account of my depredations, and other speculations as tomy whereabouts. Then I fell to scheming again. The insurmountabledifficulty of the place, especially now it was alarmed, was to getany plunder out of it. I went down into the warehouse to see ifthere was any chance of packing and addressing a parcel, but Icould not understand the system of checking. About eleven o'clock, the snow having thawed as it fell, and the day being finer and alittle warmer than the previous one, I decided that the Emporiumwas hopeless, and went out again, exasperated at my want ofsuccess, with only the vaguest plans of action in my mind. "

CHAPTER XXIII

IN DRURY LANE

"But you begin now to realise, " said the Invisible Man, "the fulldisadvantage of my condition. I had no shelter--no covering--toget clothing was to forego all my advantage, to make myself astrange and terrible thing. I was fasting; for to eat, to fillmyself with unassimilated matter, would be to become grotesquelyvisible again. "

"I never thought of that, " said Kemp. 

"Nor had I. And the snow had warned me of other dangers. I could notgo abroad in snow--it would settle on me and expose me. Rain, too, would make me a watery outline, a glistening surface of a man--abubble. And fog--I should be like a fainter bubble in a fog, a surface, a greasy glimmer of humanity. Moreover, as I wentabroad--in the London air--I gathered dirt about my ankles, floatingsmuts and dust upon my skin. I did not know how long it would bebefore I should become visible from that cause also. But I sawclearly it could not be for long. 

"Not in London at any rate. 

"I went into the slums towards Great Portland Street, and foundmyself at the end of the street in which I had lodged. I did notgo that way, because of the crowd halfway down it opposite to thestill smoking ruins of the house I had fired. My most immediateproblem was to get clothing. What to do with my face puzzled me. Then I saw in one of those little miscellaneous shops--news, sweets, toys, stationery, belated Christmas tomfoolery, and soforth--an array of masks and noses. I realised that problem wassolved. In a flash I saw my course. I turned about, no longeraimless, and went--circuitously in order to avoid the busy ways, towards the back streets north of the Strand; for I remembered, though not very distinctly where, that some theatrical costumiershad shops in that district. 

"The day was cold, with a nipping wind down the northward runningstreets. I walked fast to avoid being overtaken. Every crossing wasa danger, every passenger a thing to watch alertly. One man as Iwas about to pass him at the top of Bedford Street, turned uponme abruptly and came into me, sending me into the road and almostunder the wheel of a passing hansom. The verdict of the cab-rankwas that he had had some sort of stroke. I was so unnerved by thisencounter that I went into Covent Garden Market and sat down forsome time in a quiet corner by a stall of violets, panting andtrembling. I found I had caught a fresh cold, and had to turn outafter a time lest my sneezes should attract attention. 

"At last I reached the object of my quest, a dirty, fly-blown littleshop in a by-way near Drury Lane, with a window full of tinselrobes, sham jewels, wigs, slippers, dominoes and theatricalphotographs. The shop was old-fashioned and low and dark, and thehouse rose above it for four storeys, dark and dismal. I peeredthrough the window and, seeing no one within, entered. The openingof the door set a clanking bell ringing. I left it open, and walkedround a bare costume stand, into a corner behind a cheval glass. Fora minute or so no one came. Then I heard heavy feet striding acrossa room, and a man appeared down the shop. 

"My plans were now perfectly definite. I proposed to make my wayinto the house, secrete myself upstairs, watch my opportunity, andwhen everything was quiet, rummage out a wig, mask, spectacles, andcostume, and go into the world, perhaps a grotesque but still acredible figure. And incidentally of course I could rob the houseof any available money. 

"The man who had just entered the shop was a short, slight, hunched, beetle-browed man, with long arms and very short bandylegs. Apparently I had interrupted a meal. He stared about the shopwith an expression of expectation. This gave way to surprise, andthen to anger, as he saw the shop empty. 'Damn the boys!' he said. He went to stare up and down the street. He came in again in aminute, kicked the door to with his foot spitefully, and wentmuttering back to the house door. 

"I came forward to follow him, and at the noise of my movement hestopped dead. I did so too, startled by his quickness of ear. Heslammed the house door in my face. 

"I stood hesitating. Suddenly I heard his quick footsteps returning, and the door reopened. He stood looking about the shop like one whowas still not satisfied. Then, murmuring to himself, he examined theback of the counter and peered behind some fixtures. Then he stooddoubtful. He had left the house door open and I slipped into theinner room. 

"It was a queer little room, poorly furnished and with a number ofbig masks in the corner. On the table was his belated breakfast, and it was a confoundedly exasperating thing for me, Kemp, to haveto sniff his coffee and stand watching while he came in and resumedhis meal. And his table manners were irritating. Three doors openedinto the little room, one going upstairs and one down, but theywere all shut. I could not get out of the room while he was there;I could scarcely move because of his alertness, and there was adraught down my back. Twice I strangled a sneeze just in time. 

"The spectacular quality of my sensations was curious and novel, butfor all that I was heartily tired and angry long before he had donehis eating. But at last he made an end and putting his beggarlycrockery on the black tin tray upon which he had had his teapot, andgathering all the crumbs up on the mustard stained cloth, he tookthe whole lot of things after him. His burden prevented his shuttingthe door behind him--as he would have done; I never saw such a manfor shutting doors--and I followed him into a very dirty undergroundkitchen and scullery. I had the pleasure of seeing him begin to washup, and then, finding no good in keeping down there, and the brickfloor being cold on my feet, I returned upstairs and sat in hischair by the fire. It was burning low, and scarcely thinking, I puton a little coal. The noise of this brought him up at once, andhe stood aglare. He peered about the room and was within an aceof touching me. Even after that examination, he scarcely seemedsatisfied. He stopped in the doorway and took a final inspectionbefore he went down. 

"I waited in the little parlour for an age, and at last he came upand opened the upstairs door. I just managed to get by him. 

"On the staircase he stopped suddenly, so that I very nearlyblundered into him. He stood looking back right into my face andlistening. 'I could have sworn, ' he said. His long hairy handpulled at his lower lip. His eye went up and down the staircase. Then he grunted and went on up again. 

"His hand was on the handle of a door, and then he stopped againwith the same puzzled anger on his face. He was becoming aware ofthe faint sounds of my movements about him. The man must have haddiabolically acute hearing. He suddenly flashed into rage. 'Ifthere's anyone in this house--' he cried with an oath, and left thethreat unfinished. He put his hand in his pocket, failed to findwhat he wanted, and rushing past me went blundering noisily andpugnaciously downstairs. But I did not follow him. I sat on thehead of the staircase until his return. 

"Presently he came up again, still muttering. He opened the door ofthe room, and before I could enter, slammed it in my face. 

"I resolved to explore the house, and spent some time in doing soas noiselessly as possible. The house was very old and tumble-down, damp so that the paper in the attics was peeling from the walls, andrat infested. Some of the door handles were stiff and I was afraidto turn them. Several rooms I did inspect were unfurnished, andothers were littered with theatrical lumber, bought second-hand, Ijudged, from its appearance. In one room next to his I found a lotof old clothes. I began routing among these, and in my eagernessforgot again the evident sharpness of his ears. I heard a stealthyfootstep and, looking up just in time, saw him peering in at thetumbled heap and holding an old-fashioned revolver in his hand. I stood perfectly still while he stared about open-mouthed andsuspicious. 'It must have been her, ' he said slowly. 'Damn her!'

"He shut the door quietly, and immediately I heard the key turn inthe lock. Then his footsteps retreated. I realised abruptly that Iwas locked in. For a minute I did not know what to do. I walkedfrom door to window and back, and stood perplexed. A gust of angercame upon me. But I decided to inspect the clothes before I didanything further, and my first attempt brought down a pile from anupper shelf. This brought him back, more sinister than ever. Thattime he actually touched me, jumped back with amazement and stoodastonished in the middle of the room. 

"Presently he calmed a little. 'Rats, ' he said in an undertone, fingers on lips. He was evidently a little scared. I edged quietlyout of the room, but a plank creaked. Then the infernal little brutestarted going all over the house, revolver in hand and locking doorafter door and pocketing the keys. When I realised what he was up toI had a fit of rage--I could hardly control myself sufficiently towatch my opportunity. By this time I knew he was alone in the house, and so I made no more ado, but knocked him on the head. "

"Knocked him on the head?" exclaimed Kemp. 

"Yes--stunned him--as he was going downstairs. Hit him frombehind with a stool that stood on the landing. He went downstairslike a bag of old boots. "

"But--I say! The common conventions of humanity--"

"Are all very well for common people. But the point was, Kemp, thatI had to get out of that house in a disguise without his seeing me. I couldn't think of any other way of doing it. And then I gaggedhim with a Louis Quatorze vest and tied him up in a sheet. "

"Tied him up in a sheet!"

"Made a sort of bag of it. It was rather a good idea to keep theidiot scared and quiet, and a devilish hard thing to get outof--head away from the string. My dear Kemp, it's no good yoursitting glaring as though I was a murderer. It had to be done. Hehad his revolver. If once he saw me he would be able to describeme--"

"But still, " said Kemp, "in England--to-day. And the man was inhis own house, and you were--well, robbing. "

"Robbing! Confound it! You'll call me a thief next! Surely, Kemp, you're not fool enough to dance on the old strings. Can't you seemy position?"

"And his too, " said Kemp. 

The Invisible Man stood up sharply. "What do you mean to say?"

Kemp's face grew a trifle hard. He was about to speak and checkedhimself. "I suppose, after all, " he said with a sudden change ofmanner, "the thing had to be done. You were in a fix. But still--"

"Of course I was in a fix--an infernal fix. And he made me wildtoo--hunting me about the house, fooling about with his revolver, locking and unlocking doors. He was simply exasperating. You don'tblame me, do you? You don't blame me?"

"I never blame anyone, " said Kemp. "It's quite out of fashion. Whatdid you do next?"

"I was hungry. Downstairs I found a loaf and some rank cheese--morethan sufficient to satisfy my hunger. I took some brandy andwater, and then went up past my impromptu bag--he was lying quitestill--to the room containing the old clothes. This looked outupon the street, two lace curtains brown with dirt guarding thewindow. I went and peered out through their interstices. Outsidethe day was bright--by contrast with the brown shadows of thedismal house in which I found myself, dazzlingly bright. A brisktraffic was going by, fruit carts, a hansom, a four-wheeler with apile of boxes, a fishmonger's cart. I turned with spots of colourswimming before my eyes to the shadowy fixtures behind me. Myexcitement was giving place to a clear apprehension of my positionagain. The room was full of a faint scent of benzoline, used, Isuppose, in cleaning the garments. 

"I began a systematic search of the place. I should judge thehunchback had been alone in the house for some time. He was acurious person. Everything that could possibly be of service to meI collected in the clothes storeroom, and then I made a deliberateselection. I found a handbag I thought a suitable possession, andsome powder, rouge, and sticking-plaster. 

"I had thought of painting and powdering my face and all thatthere was to show of me, in order to render myself visible, butthe disadvantage of this lay in the fact that I should requireturpentine and other appliances and a considerable amount of timebefore I could vanish again. Finally I chose a mask of the bettertype, slightly grotesque but not more so than many human beings, dark glasses, greyish whiskers, and a wig. I could find nounderclothing, but that I could buy subsequently, and for the time Iswathed myself in calico dominoes and some white cashmere scarfs. Icould find no socks, but the hunchback's boots were rather a loosefit and sufficed. In a desk in the shop were three sovereigns andabout thirty shillings' worth of silver, and in a locked cupboard Iburst in the inner room were eight pounds in gold. I could go forthinto the world again, equipped. 

"Then came a curious hesitation. Was my appearance reallycredible? I tried myself with a little bedroom looking-glass, inspecting myself from every point of view to discover anyforgotten chink, but it all seemed sound. I was grotesque to thetheatrical pitch, a stage miser, but I was certainly not a physicalimpossibility. Gathering confidence, I took my looking-glass downinto the shop, pulled down the shop blinds, and surveyed myselffrom every point of view with the help of the cheval glass in thecorner. 

"I spent some minutes screwing up my courage and then unlocked theshop door and marched out into the street, leaving the little manto get out of his sheet again when he liked. In five minutes adozen turnings intervened between me and the costumier's shop. Noone appeared to notice me very pointedly. My last difficulty seemedovercome. "

He stopped again. 

"And you troubled no more about the hunchback?" said Kemp. 

"No, " said the Invisible Man. "Nor have I heard what became of him. I suppose he untied himself or kicked himself out. The knots werepretty tight. "

He became silent and went to the window and stared out. 

"What happened when you went out into the Strand?"

"Oh!--disillusionment again. I thought my troubles were over. Practically I thought I had impunity to do whatever I chose, everything--save to give away my secret. So I thought. Whatever Idid, whatever the consequences might be, was nothing to me. I hadmerely to fling aside my garments and vanish. No person could holdme. I could take my money where I found it. I decided to treatmyself to a sumptuous feast, and then put up at a good hotel, andaccumulate a new outfit of property. I felt amazingly confident;it's not particularly pleasant recalling that I was an ass. I wentinto a place and was already ordering lunch, when it occurred to methat I could not eat unless I exposed my invisible face. I finishedordering the lunch, told the man I should be back in ten minutes, and went out exasperated. I don't know if you have ever beendisappointed in your appetite. "

"Not quite so badly, " said Kemp, "but I can imagine it. "

"I could have smashed the silly devils. At last, faint with thedesire for tasteful food, I went into another place and demanded aprivate room. 'I am disfigured, ' I said. 'Badly. ' They looked atme curiously, but of course it was not their affair--and so atlast I got my lunch. It was not particularly well served, but itsufficed; and when I had had it, I sat over a cigar, trying to planmy line of action. And outside a snowstorm was beginning. 

"The more I thought it over, Kemp, the more I realised what ahelpless absurdity an Invisible Man was--in a cold and dirtyclimate and a crowded civilised city. Before I made this madexperiment I had dreamt of a thousand advantages. That afternoonit seemed all disappointment. I went over the heads of the thingsa man reckons desirable. No doubt invisibility made it possibleto get them, but it made it impossible to enjoy them when theyare got. Ambition--what is the good of pride of place when youcannot appear there? What is the good of the love of woman whenher name must needs be Delilah? I have no taste for politics, forthe blackguardisms of fame, for philanthropy, for sport. What wasI to do? And for this I had become a wrapped-up mystery, a swathedand bandaged caricature of a man!"

He paused, and his attitude suggested a roving glance at thewindow. 

"But how did you get to Iping?" said Kemp, anxious to keep hisguest busy talking. 

"I went there to work. I had one hope. It was a half idea! I haveit still. It is a full blown idea now. A way of getting back! Ofrestoring what I have done. When I choose. When I have done all Imean to do invisibly. And that is what I chiefly want to talk toyou about now. "

"You went straight to Iping?"

"Yes. I had simply to get my three volumes of memoranda and mycheque-book, my luggage and underclothing, order a quantity ofchemicals to work out this idea of mine--I will show you thecalculations as soon as I get my books--and then I started. Jove!I remember the snowstorm now, and the accursed bother it was tokeep the snow from damping my pasteboard nose. "

"At the end, " said Kemp, "the day before yesterday, when they foundyou out, you rather--to judge by the papers--"

"I did. Rather. Did I kill that fool of a constable?"

"No, " said Kemp. "He's expected to recover. "

"That's his luck, then. I clean lost my temper, the fools! Whycouldn't they leave me alone? And that grocer lout?"

"There are no deaths expected, " said Kemp. 

"I don't know about that tramp of mine, " said the Invisible Man, with an unpleasant laugh. 

"By Heaven, Kemp, you don't know what rage _is_! ... To have workedfor years, to have planned and plotted, and then to get somefumbling purblind idiot messing across your course! ... Everyconceivable sort of silly creature that has ever been created hasbeen sent to cross me. 

"If I have much more of it, I shall go wild--I shall startmowing 'em. 

"As it is, they've made things a thousand times more difficult. "

"No doubt it's exasperating, " said Kemp, drily. 

CHAPTER XXIV

THE PLAN THAT FAILED

"But now, " said Kemp, with a side glance out of the window, "whatare we to do?"

He moved nearer his guest as he spoke in such a manner as toprevent the possibility of a sudden glimpse of the three men whowere advancing up the hill road--with an intolerable slowness, asit seemed to Kemp. 

"What were you planning to do when you were heading for PortBurdock? _Had_ you any plan?"

"I was going to clear out of the country. But I have altered thatplan rather since seeing you. I thought it would be wise, now theweather is hot and invisibility possible, to make for the South. Especially as my secret was known, and everyone would be on thelookout for a masked and muffled man. You have a line of steamersfrom here to France. My idea was to get aboard one and run therisks of the passage. Thence I could go by train into Spain, or elseget to Algiers. It would not be difficult. There a man might alwaysbe invisible--and yet live. And do things. I was using that trampas a money box and luggage carrier, until I decided how to get mybooks and things sent over to meet me. "

"That's clear. "

"And then the filthy brute must needs try and rob me! He _has_ hiddenmy books, Kemp. Hidden my books! If I can lay my hands on him!"

"Best plan to get the books out of him first. "

"But where is he? Do you know?"

"He's in the town police station, locked up, by his own request, inthe strongest cell in the place. "

"Cur!" said the Invisible Man. 

"But that hangs up your plans a little. "

"We must get those books; those books are vital. "

"Certainly, " said Kemp, a little nervously, wondering if he heardfootsteps outside. "Certainly we must get those books. But thatwon't be difficult, if he doesn't know they're for you. "

"No, " said the Invisible Man, and thought. 

Kemp tried to think of something to keep the talk going, but theInvisible Man resumed of his own accord. 

"Blundering into your house, Kemp, " he said, "changes all my plans. For you are a man that can understand. In spite of all that hashappened, in spite of this publicity, of the loss of my books, ofwhat I have suffered, there still remain great possibilities, hugepossibilities--"

"You have told no one I am here?" he asked abruptly. 

Kemp hesitated. "That was implied, " he said. 

"No one?" insisted Griffin. 

"Not a soul. "

"Ah! Now--" The Invisible Man stood up, and sticking his arms akimbobegan to pace the study. 

"I made a mistake, Kemp, a huge mistake, in carrying this thingthrough alone. I have wasted strength, time, opportunities. Alone--itis wonderful how little a man can do alone! To rob a little, to hurt a little, and there is the end. 

"What I want, Kemp, is a goal-keeper, a helper, and a hiding-place, an arrangement whereby I can sleep and eat and rest in peace, andunsuspected. I must have a confederate. With a confederate, withfood and rest--a thousand things are possible. 

"Hitherto I have gone on vague lines. We have to consider all thatinvisibility means, all that it does not mean. It means littleadvantage for eavesdropping and so forth--one makes sounds. It'sof little help--a little help perhaps--in housebreaking and soforth. Once you've caught me you could easily imprison me. But onthe other hand I am hard to catch. This invisibility, in fact, isonly good in two cases: It's useful in getting away, it's useful inapproaching. It's particularly useful, therefore, in killing. I canwalk round a man, whatever weapon he has, choose my point, strikeas I like. Dodge as I like. Escape as I like. "

Kemp's hand went to his moustache. Was that a movementdownstairs?

"And it is killing we must do, Kemp. "

"It is killing we must do, " repeated Kemp. "I'm listening to yourplan, Griffin, but I'm not agreeing, mind. _Why_ killing?"

"Not wanton killing, but a judicious slaying. The point is, theyknow there is an Invisible Man--as well as we know there is anInvisible Man. And that Invisible Man, Kemp, must now establish aReign of Terror. Yes; no doubt it's startling. But I mean it. AReign of Terror. He must take some town like your Burdock andterrify and dominate it. He must issue his orders. He can do thatin a thousand ways--scraps of paper thrust under doors wouldsuffice. And all who disobey his orders he must kill, and killall who would defend them. "

"Humph!" said Kemp, no longer listening to Griffin but to the soundof his front door opening and closing. 

"It seems to me, Griffin, " he said, to cover his wanderingattention, "that your confederate would be in a difficultposition. "

"No one would know he was a confederate, " said the Invisible Man, eagerly. And then suddenly, "Hush! What's that downstairs?"

"Nothing, " said Kemp, and suddenly began to speak loud and fast. "I don't agree to this, Griffin, " he said. "Understand me, I don'tagree to this. Why dream of playing a game against the race? Howcan you hope to gain happiness? Don't be a lone wolf. Publishyour results; take the world--take the nation at least--into yourconfidence. Think what you might do with a million helpers--"

The Invisible Man interrupted--arm extended. "There arefootsteps coming upstairs, " he said in a low voice. 

"Nonsense, " said Kemp. 

"Let me see, " said the Invisible Man, and advanced, arm extended, to the door. 

And then things happened very swiftly. Kemp hesitated for a secondand then moved to intercept him. The Invisible Man started and stoodstill. "Traitor!" cried the Voice, and suddenly the dressing-gownopened, and sitting down the Unseen began to disrobe. Kemp madethree swift steps to the door, and forthwith the Invisible Man--hislegs had vanished--sprang to his feet with a shout. Kemp flung thedoor open. 

As it opened, there came a sound of hurrying feet downstairs andvoices. 

With a quick movement Kemp thrust the Invisible Man back, sprangaside, and slammed the door. The key was outside and ready. Inanother moment Griffin would have been alone in the belvederestudy, a prisoner. Save for one little thing. The key had beenslipped in hastily that morning. As Kemp slammed the door it fellnoisily upon the carpet. 

Kemp's face became white. He tried to grip the door handle withboth hands. For a moment he stood lugging. Then the door gave sixinches. But he got it closed again. The second time it was jerked afoot wide, and the dressing-gown came wedging itself into theopening. His throat was gripped by invisible fingers, and he lefthis hold on the handle to defend himself. He was forced back, tripped and pitched heavily into the corner of the landing. Theempty dressing-gown was flung on the top of him. 

Halfway up the staircase was Colonel Adye, the recipient of Kemp'sletter, the chief of the Burdock police. He was staring aghast atthe sudden appearance of Kemp, followed by the extraordinary sightof clothing tossing empty in the air. He saw Kemp felled, andstruggling to his feet. He saw him rush forward, and go down again, felled like an ox. 

Then suddenly he was struck violently. By nothing! A vast weight, it seemed, leapt upon him, and he was hurled headlong down thestaircase, with a grip on his throat and a knee in his groin. Aninvisible foot trod on his back, a ghostly patter passed downstairs, he heard the two police officers in the hall shout and run, and thefront door of the house slammed violently. 

He rolled over and sat up staring. He saw, staggering down thestaircase, Kemp, dusty and disheveled, one side of his face whitefrom a blow, his lip bleeding, and a pink dressing-gown and someunderclothing held in his arms. 

"My God!" cried Kemp, "the game's up! He's gone!"

CHAPTER XXV

THE HUNTING OF THE INVISIBLE MAN

For a space Kemp was too inarticulate to make Adye understand theswift things that had just happened. They stood on the landing, Kemp speaking swiftly, the grotesque swathings of Griffin still onhis arm. But presently Adye began to grasp something of thesituation. 

"He is mad, " said Kemp; "inhuman. He is pure selfishness. He thinksof nothing but his own advantage, his own safety. I have listenedto such a story this morning of brutal self-seeking.... He has woundedmen. He will kill them unless we can prevent him. He will create apanic. Nothing can stop him. He is going out now--furious!"

"He must be caught, " said Adye. "That is certain. "

"But how?" cried Kemp, and suddenly became full of ideas. "You mustbegin at once. You must set every available man to work; you mustprevent his leaving this district. Once he gets away, he may gothrough the countryside as he wills, killing and maiming. He dreamsof a reign of terror! A reign of terror, I tell you. You must set awatch on trains and roads and shipping. The garrison must help. Youmust wire for help. The only thing that may keep him here is thethought of recovering some books of notes he counts of value. I willtell you of that! There is a man in your police station--Marvel. "

"I know, " said Adye, "I know. Those books--yes. But the tramp.... "

"Says he hasn't them. But he thinks the tramp has. And you mustprevent him from eating or sleeping; day and night the country mustbe astir for him. Food must be locked up and secured, all food, sothat he will have to break his way to it. The houses everywhere mustbe barred against him. Heaven send us cold nights and rain! Thewhole country-side must begin hunting and keep hunting. I tell you, Adye, he is a danger, a disaster; unless he is pinned and secured, it is frightful to think of the things that may happen. "

"What else can we do?" said Adye. "I must go down at once and beginorganising. But why not come? Yes--you come too! Come, and wemust hold a sort of council of war--get Hopps to help--and therailway managers. By Jove! it's urgent. Come along--tell me as wego. What else is there we can do? Put that stuff down. "

In another moment Adye was leading the way downstairs. They foundthe front door open and the policemen standing outside staring atempty air. "He's got away, sir, " said one. 

"We must go to the central station at once, " said Adye. "One of yougo on down and get a cab to come up and meet us--quickly. Andnow, Kemp, what else?"

"Dogs, " said Kemp. "Get dogs. They don't see him, but they windhim. Get dogs. "

"Good, " said Adye. "It's not generally known, but the prisonofficials over at Halstead know a man with bloodhounds. Dogs. Whatelse?"

"Bear in mind, " said Kemp, "his food shows. After eating, his foodshows until it is assimilated. So that he has to hide after eating. You must keep on beating. Every thicket, every quiet corner. Andput all weapons--all implements that might be weapons, away. Hecan't carry such things for long. And what he can snatch up andstrike men with must be hidden away. "

"Good again, " said Adye. "We shall have him yet!"

"And on the roads, " said Kemp, and hesitated. 

"Yes?" said Adye. 

"Powdered glass, " said Kemp. "It's cruel, I know. But think of whathe may do!"

Adye drew the air in sharply between his teeth. "It'sunsportsmanlike. I don't know. But I'll have powdered glass gotready. If he goes too far.... "

"The man's become inhuman, I tell you, " said Kemp. "I am as sure hewill establish a reign of terror--so soon as he has got over theemotions of this escape--as I am sure I am talking to you. Ouronly chance is to be ahead. He has cut himself off from his kind. His blood be upon his own head. "

CHAPTER XXVI

THE WICKSTEED MURDER

The Invisible Man seems to have rushed out of Kemp's house in astate of blind fury. A little child playing near Kemp's gateway wasviolently caught up and thrown aside, so that its ankle was broken, and thereafter for some hours the Invisible Man passed out of humanperceptions. No one knows where he went nor what he did. But onecan imagine him hurrying through the hot June forenoon, up thehill and on to the open downland behind Port Burdock, raging anddespairing at his intolerable fate, and sheltering at last, heatedand weary, amid the thickets of Hintondean, to piece together againhis shattered schemes against his species. That seems to mostprobable refuge for him, for there it was he re-asserted himself ina grimly tragical manner about two in the afternoon. 

One wonders what his state of mind may have been during that time, and what plans he devised. No doubt he was almost ecstaticallyexasperated by Kemp's treachery, and though we may be able tounderstand the motives that led to that deceit, we may stillimagine and even sympathise a little with the fury the attemptedsurprise must have occasioned. Perhaps something of the stunnedastonishment of his Oxford Street experiences may have returned tohim, for he had evidently counted on Kemp's co-operation in hisbrutal dream of a terrorised world. At any rate he vanished fromhuman ken about midday, and no living witness can tell what he diduntil about half-past two. It was a fortunate thing, perhaps, forhumanity, but for him it was a fatal inaction. 

During that time a growing multitude of men scattered over thecountryside were busy. In the morning he had still been simply alegend, a terror; in the afternoon, by virtue chiefly of Kemp'sdrily worded proclamation, he was presented as a tangibleantagonist, to be wounded, captured, or overcome, and thecountryside began organising itself with inconceivable rapidity. By two o'clock even he might still have removed himself out ofthe district by getting aboard a train, but after two that becameimpossible. Every passenger train along the lines on a greatparallelogram between Southampton, Manchester, Brighton and Horsham, travelled with locked doors, and the goods traffic was almostentirely suspended. And in a great circle of twenty miles round PortBurdock, men armed with guns and bludgeons were presently settingout in groups of three and four, with dogs, to beat the roads andfields. 

Mounted policemen rode along the country lanes, stopping at everycottage and warning the people to lock up their houses, and keepindoors unless they were armed, and all the elementary schools hadbroken up by three o'clock, and the children, scared and keepingtogether in groups, were hurrying home. Kemp's proclamation--signedindeed by Adye--was posted over almost the whole district by four orfive o'clock in the afternoon. It gave briefly but clearly all theconditions of the struggle, the necessity of keeping the InvisibleMan from food and sleep, the necessity for incessant watchfulnessand for a prompt attention to any evidence of his movements. Andso swift and decided was the action of the authorities, so promptand universal was the belief in this strange being, that beforenightfall an area of several hundred square miles was in a stringentstate of siege. And before nightfall, too, a thrill of horrorwent through the whole watching nervous countryside. Going fromwhispering mouth to mouth, swift and certain over the length andbreadth of the country, passed the story of the murder of Mr. Wicksteed. 

If our supposition that the Invisible Man's refuge was theHintondean thickets, then we must suppose that in the earlyafternoon he sallied out again bent upon some project that involvedthe use of a weapon. We cannot know what the project was, but theevidence that he had the iron rod in hand before he met Wicksteedis to me at least overwhelming. 

Of course we can know nothing of the details of that encounter. It occurred on the edge of a gravel pit, not two hundred yardsfrom Lord Burdock's lodge gate. Everything points to a desperatestruggle--the trampled ground, the numerous wounds Mr. Wicksteedreceived, his splintered walking-stick; but why the attack was made, save in a murderous frenzy, it is impossible to imagine. Indeed thetheory of madness is almost unavoidable. Mr. Wicksteed was a man offorty-five or forty-six, steward to Lord Burdock, of inoffensivehabits and appearance, the very last person in the world to provokesuch a terrible antagonist. Against him it would seem the InvisibleMan used an iron rod dragged from a broken piece of fence. Hestopped this quiet man, going quietly home to his midday meal, attacked him, beat down his feeble defences, broke his arm, felledhim, and smashed his head to a jelly. 

Of course, he must have dragged this rod out of the fencing beforehe met his victim--he must have been carrying it ready in his hand. Only two details beyond what has already been stated seem to bearon the matter. One is the circumstance that the gravel pit was notin Mr. Wicksteed's direct path home, but nearly a couple of hundredyards out of his way. The other is the assertion of a little girlto the effect that, going to her afternoon school, she saw themurdered man "trotting" in a peculiar manner across a field towardsthe gravel pit. Her pantomime of his action suggests a man pursuingsomething on the ground before him and striking at it ever andagain with his walking-stick. She was the last person to see himalive. He passed out of her sight to his death, the struggle beinghidden from her only by a clump of beech trees and a slightdepression in the ground. 

Now this, to the present writer's mind at least, lifts the murderout of the realm of the absolutely wanton. We may imagine thatGriffin had taken the rod as a weapon indeed, but without anydeliberate intention of using it in murder. Wicksteed may then havecome by and noticed this rod inexplicably moving through the air. Without any thought of the Invisible Man--for Port Burdock is tenmiles away--he may have pursued it. It is quite conceivable thathe may not even have heard of the Invisible Man. One can thenimagine the Invisible Man making off--quietly in order to avoiddiscovering his presence in the neighbourhood, and Wicksteed, excited and curious, pursuing this unaccountably locomotiveobject--finally striking at it. 

No doubt the Invisible Man could easily have distanced hismiddle-aged pursuer under ordinary circumstances, but the positionin which Wicksteed's body was found suggests that he had theill luck to drive his quarry into a corner between a drift ofstinging nettles and the gravel pit. To those who appreciate theextraordinary irascibility of the Invisible Man, the rest of theencounter will be easy to imagine. 

But this is pure hypothesis. The only undeniable facts--for storiesof children are often unreliable--are the discovery of Wicksteed'sbody, done to death, and of the blood-stained iron rod flung amongthe nettles. The abandonment of the rod by Griffin, suggests thatin the emotional excitement of the affair, the purpose for whichhe took it--if he had a purpose--was abandoned. He was certainlyan intensely egotistical and unfeeling man, but the sight of hisvictim, his first victim, bloody and pitiful at his feet, may havereleased some long pent fountain of remorse which for a time mayhave flooded whatever scheme of action he had contrived. 

After the murder of Mr. Wicksteed, he would seem to have struckacross the country towards the downland. There is a story of avoice heard about sunset by a couple of men in a field near FernBottom. It was wailing and laughing, sobbing and groaning, and everand again it shouted. It must have been queer hearing. It drove upacross the middle of a clover field and died away towards thehills. 

That afternoon the Invisible Man must have learnt something ofthe rapid use Kemp had made of his confidences. He must havefound houses locked and secured; he may have loitered aboutrailway stations and prowled about inns, and no doubt he read theproclamations and realised something of the nature of the campaignagainst him. And as the evening advanced, the fields became dottedhere and there with groups of three or four men, and noisy with theyelping of dogs. These men-hunters had particular instructions inthe case of an encounter as to the way they should support oneanother. But he avoided them all. We may understand something ofhis exasperation, and it could have been none the less becausehe himself had supplied the information that was being used soremorselessly against him. For that day at least he lost heart; fornearly twenty-four hours, save when he turned on Wicksteed, he wasa hunted man. In the night, he must have eaten and slept; for inthe morning he was himself again, active, powerful, angry, andmalignant, prepared for his last great struggle against the world. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE SIEGE OF KEMP'S HOUSE

Kemp read a strange missive, written in pencil on a greasy sheet ofpaper. 

"You have been amazingly energetic and clever, " this letter ran, "though what you stand to gain by it I cannot imagine. You areagainst me. For a whole day you have chased me; you have tried torob me of a night's rest. But I have had food in spite of you, Ihave slept in spite of you, and the game is only beginning. Thegame is only beginning. There is nothing for it, but to start theTerror. This announces the first day of the Terror. Port Burdockis no longer under the Queen, tell your Colonel of Police, andthe rest of them; it is under me--the Terror! This is day one ofyear one of the new epoch--the Epoch of the Invisible Man. I amInvisible Man the First. To begin with the rule will be easy. Thefirst day there will be one execution for the sake of example--aman named Kemp. Death starts for him to-day. He may lock himselfaway, hide himself away, get guards about him, put on armourif he likes--Death, the unseen Death, is coming. Let him takeprecautions; it will impress my people. Death starts from thepillar box by midday. The letter will fall in as the postman comesalong, then off! The game begins. Death starts. Help him not, mypeople, lest Death fall upon you also. To-day Kemp is to die. "

Kemp read this letter twice, "It's no hoax, " he said. "That'shis voice! And he means it. "

He turned the folded sheet over and saw on the addressed side of itthe postmark Hintondean, and the prosaic detail "2d. To pay. "

He got up slowly, leaving his lunch unfinished--the letter hadcome by the one o'clock post--and went into his study. He rangfor his housekeeper, and told her to go round the house at once, examine all the fastenings of the windows, and close all theshutters. He closed the shutters of his study himself. From alocked drawer in his bedroom he took a little revolver, examined itcarefully, and put it into the pocket of his lounge jacket. Hewrote a number of brief notes, one to Colonel Adye, gave them tohis servant to take, with explicit instructions as to her way ofleaving the house. "There is no danger, " he said, and added amental reservation, "to you. " He remained meditative for a spaceafter doing this, and then returned to his cooling lunch. 

He ate with gaps of thought. Finally he struck the table sharply. "We will have him!" he said; "and I am the bait. He will come toofar. "

He went up to the belvedere, carefully shutting every door afterhim. "It's a game, " he said, "an odd game--but the chances areall for me, Mr. Griffin, in spite of your invisibility. Griffin_contra mundum_ ... With a vengeance. "

He stood at the window staring at the hot hillside. "He must getfood every day--and I don't envy him. Did he really sleep lastnight? Out in the open somewhere--secure from collisions. I wishwe could get some good cold wet weather instead of the heat. 

"He may be watching me now. "

He went close to the window. Something rapped smartly against thebrickwork over the frame, and made him start violently back. 

"I'm getting nervous, " said Kemp. But it was five minutes before hewent to the window again. "It must have been a sparrow, " he said. 

Presently he heard the front-door bell ringing, and hurrieddownstairs. He unbolted and unlocked the door, examined the chain, put it up, and opened cautiously without showing himself. Afamiliar voice hailed him. It was Adye. 

"Your servant's been assaulted, Kemp, " he said round the door. 

"What!" exclaimed Kemp. 

"Had that note of yours taken away from her. He's close about here. Let me in. "

Kemp released the chain, and Adye entered through as narrow anopening as possible. He stood in the hall, looking with infiniterelief at Kemp refastening the door. "Note was snatched out of herhand. Scared her horribly. She's down at the station. Hysterics. He's close here. What was it about?"

Kemp swore. 

"What a fool I was, " said Kemp. "I might have known. It's not anhour's walk from Hintondean. Already?"

"What's up?" said Adye. 

"Look here!" said Kemp, and led the way into his study. He handedAdye the Invisible Man's letter. Adye read it and whistled softly. "And you--?" said Adye. 

"Proposed a trap--like a fool, " said Kemp, "and sent my proposalout by a maid servant. To him. "

Adye followed Kemp's profanity. 

"He'll clear out, " said Adye. 

"Not he, " said Kemp. 

A resounding smash of glass came from upstairs. Adye had a silveryglimpse of a little revolver half out of Kemp's pocket. "It's awindow, upstairs!" said Kemp, and led the way up. There came asecond smash while they were still on the staircase. When theyreached the study they found two of the three windows smashed, half the room littered with splintered glass, and one big flintlying on the writing table. The two men stopped in the doorway, contemplating the wreckage. Kemp swore again, and as he did so thethird window went with a snap like a pistol, hung starred for amoment, and collapsed in jagged, shivering triangles into the room. 

"What's this for?" said Adye. 

"It's a beginning, " said Kemp. 

"There's no way of climbing up here?"

"Not for a cat, " said Kemp. 

"No shutters?"

"Not here. All the downstairs rooms--Hullo!"

Smash, and then whack of boards hit hard came from downstairs. "Confound him!" said Kemp. "That must be--yes--it's one of thebedrooms. He's going to do all the house. But he's a fool. Theshutters are up, and the glass will fall outside. He'll cut hisfeet. "

Another window proclaimed its destruction. The two men stood on thelanding perplexed. "I have it!" said Adye. "Let me have a stick orsomething, and I'll go down to the station and get the bloodhoundsput on. That ought to settle him! They're hard by--not tenminutes--"

Another window went the way of its fellows. 

"You haven't a revolver?" asked Adye. 

Kemp's hand went to his pocket. Then he hesitated. "I haven'tone--at least to spare. "

"I'll bring it back, " said Adye, "you'll be safe here. "

Kemp, ashamed of his momentary lapse from truthfulness, handed himthe weapon. 

"Now for the door, " said Adye. 

As they stood hesitating in the hall, they heard one of thefirst-floor bedroom windows crack and clash. Kemp went to the doorand began to slip the bolts as silently as possible. His face was alittle paler than usual. "You must step straight out, " said Kemp. Inanother moment Adye was on the doorstep and the bolts were droppingback into the staples. He hesitated for a moment, feeling morecomfortable with his back against the door. Then he marched, uprightand square, down the steps. He crossed the lawn and approached thegate. A little breeze seemed to ripple over the grass. Somethingmoved near him. "Stop a bit, " said a Voice, and Adye stopped deadand his hand tightened on the revolver. 

"Well?" said Adye, white and grim, and every nerve tense. 

"Oblige me by going back to the house, " said the Voice, as tenseand grim as Adye's. 

"Sorry, " said Adye a little hoarsely, and moistened his lips withhis tongue. The Voice was on his left front, he thought. Suppose hewere to take his luck with a shot?

"What are you going for?" said the Voice, and there was a quickmovement of the two, and a flash of sunlight from the open lip ofAdye's pocket. 

Adye desisted and thought. "Where I go, " he said slowly, "is my ownbusiness. " The words were still on his lips, when an arm came roundhis neck, his back felt a knee, and he was sprawling backward. Hedrew clumsily and fired absurdly, and in another moment he wasstruck in the mouth and the revolver wrested from his grip. He madea vain clutch at a slippery limb, tried to struggle up and fellback. "Damn!" said Adye. The Voice laughed. "I'd kill you now if itwasn't the waste of a bullet, " it said. He saw the revolver inmid-air, six feet off, covering him. 

"Well?" said Adye, sitting up. 

"Get up, " said the Voice. 

Adye stood up. 

"Attention, " said the Voice, and then fiercely, "Don't try anygames. Remember I can see your face if you can't see mine. You'vegot to go back to the house. "

"He won't let me in, " said Adye. 

"That's a pity, " said the Invisible Man. "I've got no quarrel withyou. "

Adye moistened his lips again. He glanced away from the barrel ofthe revolver and saw the sea far off very blue and dark under themidday sun, the smooth green down, the white cliff of the Head, andthe multitudinous town, and suddenly he knew that life was verysweet. His eyes came back to this little metal thing hangingbetween heaven and earth, six yards away. "What am I to do?" hesaid sullenly. 

"What am _I_ to do?" asked the Invisible Man. "You will get help. Theonly thing is for you to go back. "

"I will try. If he lets me in will you promise not to rush thedoor?"

"I've got no quarrel with you, " said the Voice. 

Kemp had hurried upstairs after letting Adye out, and now crouchingamong the broken glass and peering cautiously over the edge of thestudy window sill, he saw Adye stand parleying with the Unseen. "Why doesn't he fire?" whispered Kemp to himself. Then the revolvermoved a little and the glint of the sunlight flashed in Kemp'seyes. He shaded his eyes and tried to see the source of theblinding beam. 

"Surely!" he said, "Adye has given up the revolver. "

"Promise not to rush the door, " Adye was saying. "Don't push awinning game too far. Give a man a chance. "

"You go back to the house. I tell you flatly I will not promiseanything. "

Adye's decision seemed suddenly made. He turned towards the house, walking slowly with his hands behind him. Kemp watched him--puzzled. The revolver vanished, flashed again into sight, vanished again, and became evident on a closer scrutiny as a little dark objectfollowing Adye. Then things happened very quickly. Adye leaptbackwards, swung around, clutched at this little object, missed it, threw up his hands and fell forward on his face, leaving a littlepuff of blue in the air. Kemp did not hear the sound of the shot. Adye writhed, raised himself on one arm, fell forward, and laystill. 

For a space Kemp remained staring at the quiet carelessness ofAdye's attitude. The afternoon was very hot and still, nothingseemed stirring in all the world save a couple of yellow butterflieschasing each other through the shrubbery between the house and theroad gate. Adye lay on the lawn near the gate. The blinds of allthe villas down the hill-road were drawn, but in one little greensummer-house was a white figure, apparently an old man asleep. Kempscrutinised the surroundings of the house for a glimpse of therevolver, but it had vanished. His eyes came back to Adye. The gamewas opening well. 

Then came a ringing and knocking at the front door, that grew atlast tumultuous, but pursuant to Kemp's instructions the servantshad locked themselves into their rooms. This was followed by asilence. Kemp sat listening and then began peering cautiously outof the three windows, one after another. He went to the staircasehead and stood listening uneasily. He armed himself with hisbedroom poker, and went to examine the interior fastenings of theground-floor windows again. Everything was safe and quiet. Hereturned to the belvedere. Adye lay motionless over the edge of thegravel just as he had fallen. Coming along the road by the villaswere the housemaid and two policemen. 

Everything was deadly still. The three people seemed very slow inapproaching. He wondered what his antagonist was doing. 

He started. There was a smash from below. He hesitated and wentdownstairs again. Suddenly the house resounded with heavy blows andthe splintering of wood. He heard a smash and the destructive clangof the iron fastenings of the shutters. He turned the key andopened the kitchen door. As he did so, the shutters, split andsplintering, came flying inward. He stood aghast. The window frame, save for one crossbar, was still intact, but only little teeth ofglass remained in the frame. The shutters had been driven in withan axe, and now the axe was descending in sweeping blows upon thewindow frame and the iron bars defending it. Then suddenly it leaptaside and vanished. He saw the revolver lying on the path outside, and then the little weapon sprang into the air. He dodged back. Therevolver cracked just too late, and a splinter from the edge of theclosing door flashed over his head. He slammed and locked the door, and as he stood outside he heard Griffin shouting and laughing. Then the blows of the axe with its splitting and smashingconsequences, were resumed. 

Kemp stood in the passage trying to think. In a moment theInvisible Man would be in the kitchen. This door would not keep hima moment, and then--

A ringing came at the front door again. It would be the policemen. He ran into the hall, put up the chain, and drew the bolts. He madethe girl speak before he dropped the chain, and the three peopleblundered into the house in a heap, and Kemp slammed the dooragain. 

"The Invisible Man!" said Kemp. "He has a revolver, with twoshots--left. He's killed Adye. Shot him anyhow. Didn't you see him onthe lawn? He's lying there. "

"Who?" said one of the policemen. 

"Adye, " said Kemp. 

"We came in the back way, " said the girl. 

"What's that smashing?" asked one of the policemen. 

"He's in the kitchen--or will be. He has found an axe--"

Suddenly the house was full of the Invisible Man's resoundingblows on the kitchen door. The girl stared towards the kitchen, shuddered, and retreated into the dining-room. Kemp tried toexplain in broken sentences. They heard the kitchen door give. 

"This way, " said Kemp, starting into activity, and bundled thepolicemen into the dining-room doorway. 

"Poker, " said Kemp, and rushed to the fender. He handed the pokerhe had carried to the policeman and the dining-room one to theother. He suddenly flung himself backward. 

"Whup!" said one policeman, ducked, and caught the axe on his poker. The pistol snapped its penultimate shot and ripped a valuable SidneyCooper. The second policeman brought his poker down on the littleweapon, as one might knock down a wasp, and sent it rattling to thefloor. 

At the first clash the girl screamed, stood screaming for a momentby the fireplace, and then ran to open the shutters--possiblywith an idea of escaping by the shattered window. 

The axe receded into the passage, and fell to a position about twofeet from the ground. They could hear the Invisible Man breathing. "Stand away, you two, " he said. "I want that man Kemp. "

"We want you, " said the first policeman, making a quick stepforward and wiping with his poker at the Voice. The Invisible Manmust have started back, and he blundered into the umbrella stand. 

Then, as the policeman staggered with the swing of the blow he hadaimed, the Invisible Man countered with the axe, the helmet crumpledlike paper, and the blow sent the man spinning to the floor at thehead of the kitchen stairs. But the second policeman, aiming behindthe axe with his poker, hit something soft that snapped. There was asharp exclamation of pain and then the axe fell to the ground. Thepoliceman wiped again at vacancy and hit nothing; he put his foot onthe axe, and struck again. Then he stood, poker clubbed, listeningintent for the slightest movement. 

He heard the dining-room window open, and a quick rush of feetwithin. His companion rolled over and sat up, with the bloodrunning down between his eye and ear. "Where is he?" asked the manon the floor. 

"Don't know. I've hit him. He's standing somewhere in the hall. Unless he's slipped past you. Doctor Kemp--sir. "

Pause. 

"Doctor Kemp, " cried the policeman again. 

The second policeman began struggling to his feet. He stood up. Suddenly the faint pad of bare feet on the kitchen stairs could beheard. "Yap!" cried the first policeman, and incontinently flunghis poker. It smashed a little gas bracket. 

He made as if he would pursue the Invisible Man downstairs. Then hethought better of it and stepped into the dining-room. 

"Doctor Kemp--" he began, and stopped short. 

"Doctor Kemp's a hero, " he said, as his companion looked over hisshoulder. 

The dining-room window was wide open, and neither housemaid norKemp was to be seen. 

The second policeman's opinion of Kemp was terse and vivid. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE HUNTER HUNTED

Mr. Heelas, Mr. Kemp's nearest neighbour among the villa holders, was asleep in his summer house when the siege of Kemp's housebegan. Mr. Heelas was one of the sturdy minority who refused tobelieve "in all this nonsense" about an Invisible Man. His wife, however, as he was subsequently to be reminded, did. He insistedupon walking about his garden just as if nothing was the matter, and he went to sleep in the afternoon in accordance with the customof years. He slept through the smashing of the windows, and thenwoke up suddenly with a curious persuasion of something wrong. Helooked across at Kemp's house, rubbed his eyes and looked again. Then he put his feet to the ground, and sat listening. He said hewas damned, but still the strange thing was visible. The houselooked as though it had been deserted for weeks--after a violentriot. Every window was broken, and every window, save those of thebelvedere study, was blinded by the internal shutters. 

"I could have sworn it was all right"--he looked at his watch--"twentyminutes ago. "

He became aware of a measured concussion and the clash of glass, far away in the distance. And then, as he sat open-mouthed, came astill more wonderful thing. The shutters of the drawing-room windowwere flung open violently, and the housemaid in her outdoor hat andgarments, appeared struggling in a frantic manner to throw up thesash. Suddenly a man appeared beside her, helping her--Dr. Kemp!In another moment the window was open, and the housemaid wasstruggling out; she pitched forward and vanished among the shrubs. Mr. Heelas stood up, exclaiming vaguely and vehemently at all thesewonderful things. He saw Kemp stand on the sill, spring from thewindow, and reappear almost instantaneously running along a path inthe shrubbery and stooping as he ran, like a man who evadesobservation. He vanished behind a laburnum, and appeared againclambering over a fence that abutted on the open down. In a secondhe had tumbled over and was running at a tremendous pace down theslope towards Mr. Heelas. 

"Lord!" cried Mr. Heelas, struck with an idea; "it's that InvisibleMan brute! It's right, after all!"

With Mr. Heelas to think things like that was to act, and his cookwatching him from the top window was amazed to see him come peltingtowards the house at a good nine miles an hour. There was aslamming of doors, a ringing of bells, and the voice of Mr. Heelasbellowing like a bull. "Shut the doors, shut the windows, shuteverything!--the Invisible Man is coming!" Instantly the house wasfull of screams and directions, and scurrying feet. He ran himselfto shut the French windows that opened on the veranda; as he did soKemp's head and shoulders and knee appeared over the edge of thegarden fence. In another moment Kemp had ploughed through theasparagus, and was running across the tennis lawn to the house. 

"You can't come in, " said Mr. Heelas, shutting the bolts. "I'm verysorry if he's after you, but you can't come in!"

Kemp appeared with a face of terror close to the glass, rapping andthen shaking frantically at the French window. Then, seeing hisefforts were useless, he ran along the veranda, vaulted the end, and went to hammer at the side door. Then he ran round by the sidegate to the front of the house, and so into the hill-road. And Mr. Heelas staring from his window--a face of horror--had scarcelywitnessed Kemp vanish, ere the asparagus was being trampled thisway and that by feet unseen. At that Mr. Heelas fled precipitatelyupstairs, and the rest of the chase is beyond his purview. But ashe passed the staircase window, he heard the side gate slam. 

Emerging into the hill-road, Kemp naturally took the downwarddirection, and so it was he came to run in his own person the veryrace he had watched with such a critical eye from the belvederestudy only four days ago. He ran it well, for a man out oftraining, and though his face was white and wet, his wits were coolto the last. He ran with wide strides, and wherever a patch ofrough ground intervened, wherever there came a patch of raw flints, or a bit of broken glass shone dazzling, he crossed it and left thebare invisible feet that followed to take what line they would. 

For the first time in his life Kemp discovered that the hill-roadwas indescribably vast and desolate, and that the beginnings of thetown far below at the hill foot were strangely remote. Never hadthere been a slower or more painful method of progression thanrunning. All the gaunt villas, sleeping in the afternoon sun, looked locked and barred; no doubt they were locked and barred--byhis own orders. But at any rate they might have kept a lookoutfor an eventuality like this! The town was rising up now, the seahad dropped out of sight behind it, and people down below werestirring. A tram was just arriving at the hill foot. Beyond thatwas the police station. Was that footsteps he heard behind him?Spurt. 

The people below were staring at him, one or two were running, andhis breath was beginning to saw in his throat. The tram was quitenear now, and the "Jolly Cricketers" was noisily barring its doors. Beyond the tram were posts and heaps of gravel--the drainageworks. He had a transitory idea of jumping into the tram andslamming the doors, and then he resolved to go for the policestation. In another moment he had passed the door of the "JollyCricketers, " and was in the blistering fag end of the street, withhuman beings about him. The tram driver and his helper--arrestedby the sight of his furious haste--stood staring with the tramhorses unhitched. Further on the astonished features of navviesappeared above the mounds of gravel. 

His pace broke a little, and then he heard the swift pad of hispursuer, and leapt forward again. "The Invisible Man!" he cried tothe navvies, with a vague indicative gesture, and by an inspirationleapt the excavation and placed a burly group between him and thechase. Then abandoning the idea of the police station he turnedinto a little side street, rushed by a greengrocer's cart, hesitated for the tenth of a second at the door of a sweetstuffshop, and then made for the mouth of an alley that ran back intothe main Hill Street again. Two or three little children wereplaying here, and shrieked and scattered at his apparition, andforthwith doors and windows opened and excited mothers revealedtheir hearts. Out he shot into Hill Street again, three hundredyards from the tram-line end, and immediately he became aware of atumultuous vociferation and running people. 

He glanced up the street towards the hill. Hardly a dozen yards offran a huge navvy, cursing in fragments and slashing viciously witha spade, and hard behind him came the tram conductor with his fistsclenched. Up the street others followed these two, striking andshouting. Down towards the town, men and women were running, and henoticed clearly one man coming out of a shop-door with a stick inhis hand. "Spread out! Spread out!" cried some one. Kemp suddenlygrasped the altered condition of the chase. He stopped, and lookedround, panting. "He's close here!" he cried. "Form a line across--"

He was hit hard under the ear, and went reeling, trying to faceround towards his unseen antagonist. He just managed to keep hisfeet, and he struck a vain counter in the air. Then he was hitagain under the jaw, and sprawled headlong on the ground. Inanother moment a knee compressed his diaphragm, and a couple ofeager hands gripped his throat, but the grip of one was weaker thanthe other; he grasped the wrists, heard a cry of pain from hisassailant, and then the spade of the navvy came whirling throughthe air above him, and struck something with a dull thud. He felta drop of moisture on his face. The grip at his throat suddenlyrelaxed, and with a convulsive effort, Kemp loosed himself, graspeda limp shoulder, and rolled uppermost. He gripped the unseen elbowsnear the ground. "I've got him!" screamed Kemp. "Help! Help--hold!He's down! Hold his feet!"

In another second there was a simultaneous rush upon the struggle, and a stranger coming into the road suddenly might have thought anexceptionally savage game of Rugby football was in progress. Andthere was no shouting after Kemp's cry--only a sound of blowsand feet and heavy breathing. 

Then came a mighty effort, and the Invisible Man threw off a coupleof his antagonists and rose to his knees. Kemp clung to him infront like a hound to a stag, and a dozen hands gripped, clutched, and tore at the Unseen. The tram conductor suddenly got the neckand shoulders and lugged him back. 

Down went the heap of struggling men again and rolled over. Therewas, I am afraid, some savage kicking. Then suddenly a wild screamof "Mercy! Mercy!" that died down swiftly to a sound like choking. 

"Get back, you fools!" cried the muffled voice of Kemp, and therewas a vigorous shoving back of stalwart forms. "He's hurt, I tellyou. Stand back!"

There was a brief struggle to clear a space, and then the circle ofeager faces saw the doctor kneeling, as it seemed, fifteen inchesin the air, and holding invisible arms to the ground. Behind him aconstable gripped invisible ankles. 

"Don't you leave go of en, " cried the big navvy, holding ablood-stained spade; "he's shamming. "

"He's not shamming, " said the doctor, cautiously raising his knee;"and I'll hold him. " His face was bruised and already going red; hespoke thickly because of a bleeding lip. He released one hand andseemed to be feeling at the face. "The mouth's all wet, " he said. And then, "Good God!"

He stood up abruptly and then knelt down on the ground by the sideof the thing unseen. There was a pushing and shuffling, a sound ofheavy feet as fresh people turned up to increase the pressure ofthe crowd. People now were coming out of the houses. The doors ofthe "Jolly Cricketers" stood suddenly wide open. Very little was said. 

Kemp felt about, his hand seeming to pass through empty air. "He'snot breathing, " he said, and then, "I can't feel his heart. Hisside--ugh!"

Suddenly an old woman, peering under the arm of the big navvy, screamed sharply. "Looky there!" she said, and thrust out awrinkled finger. 

And looking where she pointed, everyone saw, faint and transparentas though it was made of glass, so that veins and arteries andbones and nerves could be distinguished, the outline of a hand, ahand limp and prone. It grew clouded and opaque even as they stared. 

"Hullo!" cried the constable. "Here's his feet a-showing!"

And so, slowly, beginning at his hands and feet and creeping alonghis limbs to the vital centres of his body, that strange changecontinued. It was like the slow spreading of a poison. First camethe little white nerves, a hazy grey sketch of a limb, then theglassy bones and intricate arteries, then the flesh and skin, firsta faint fogginess, and then growing rapidly dense and opaque. Presently they could see his crushed chest and his shoulders, andthe dim outline of his drawn and battered features. 

When at last the crowd made way for Kemp to stand erect, there lay, naked and pitiful on the ground, the bruised and broken body of ayoung man about thirty. His hair and brow were white--not greywith age, but white with the whiteness of albinism--and his eyeswere like garnets. His hands were clenched, his eyes wide open, andhis expression was one of anger and dismay. 

"Cover his face!" said a man. "For Gawd's sake, cover that face!"and three little children, pushing forward through the crowd, weresuddenly twisted round and sent packing off again. 

Someone brought a sheet from the "Jolly Cricketers, " and havingcovered him, they carried him into that house. And there it was, ona shabby bed in a tawdry, ill-lighted bedroom, surrounded by a crowdof ignorant and excited people, broken and wounded, betrayed andunpitied, that Griffin, the first of all men to make himselfinvisible, Griffin, the most gifted physicist the world has everseen, ended in infinite disaster his strange and terrible career. 

THE EPILOGUE

So ends the story of the strange and evil experiments of theInvisible Man. And if you would learn more of him you must go to alittle inn near Port Stowe and talk to the landlord. The sign ofthe inn is an empty board save for a hat and boots, and the name isthe title of this story. The landlord is a short and corpulentlittle man with a nose of cylindrical proportions, wiry hair, and asporadic rosiness of visage. Drink generously, and he will tell yougenerously of all the things that happened to him after that time, and of how the lawyers tried to do him out of the treasure foundupon him. 

"When they found they couldn't prove who's money was which, I'mblessed, " he says, "if they didn't try to make me out a bloomingtreasure trove! Do I _look_ like a Treasure Trove? And then agentleman gave me a guinea a night to tell the story at the EmpireMusic 'All--just to tell 'em in my own words--barring one. "

And if you want to cut off the flow of his reminiscences abruptly, you can always do so by asking if there weren't three manuscriptbooks in the story. He admits there were and proceeds to explain, with asseverations that everybody thinks _he_ has 'em! But bless you!he hasn't. "The Invisible Man it was took 'em off to hide 'em whenI cut and ran for Port Stowe. It's that Mr. Kemp put people on withthe idea of _my_ having 'em. "

And then he subsides into a pensive state, watches you furtively, bustles nervously with glasses, and presently leaves the bar. 

He is a bachelor man--his tastes were ever bachelor, and thereare no women folk in the house. Outwardly he buttons--it isexpected of him--but in his more vital privacies, in the matterof braces for example, he still turns to string. He conducts hishouse without enterprise, but with eminent decorum. His movementsare slow, and he is a great thinker. But he has a reputation forwisdom and for a respectable parsimony in the village, and hisknowledge of the roads of the South of England would beat Cobbett. 

And on Sunday mornings, every Sunday morning, all the year round, while he is closed to the outer world, and every night after ten, he goes into his bar parlour, bearing a glass of gin faintly tingedwith water, and having placed this down, he locks the door andexamines the blinds, and even looks under the table. And then, being satisfied of his solitude, he unlocks the cupboard and a boxin the cupboard and a drawer in that box, and produces threevolumes bound in brown leather, and places them solemnly in themiddle of the table. The covers are weather-worn and tinged with analgal green--for once they sojourned in a ditch and some of thepages have been washed blank by dirty water. The landlord sits downin an armchair, fills a long clay pipe slowly--gloating over thebooks the while. Then he pulls one towards him and opens it, andbegins to study it--turning over the leaves backwards and forwards. 

His brows are knit and his lips move painfully. "Hex, little two upin the air, cross and a fiddle-de-dee. Lord! what a one he was forintellect!"

Presently he relaxes and leans back, and blinks through his smokeacross the room at things invisible to other eyes. "Full ofsecrets, " he says. "Wonderful secrets!"

"Once I get the haul of them--_Lord_!"

"I wouldn't do what _he_ did; I'd just--well!" He pulls at hispipe. 

So he lapses into a dream, the undying wonderful dream of his life. And though Kemp has fished unceasingly, no human being save thelandlord knows those books are there, with the subtle secret ofinvisibility and a dozen other strange secrets written therein. And none other will know of them until he dies.