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 until

near midday, the blinds down, the door shut, and none, after Hall's

repulse, venturing near him.

All that time he must have fasted. Thrice he rang his bell, the

third time furiously and continuously, but no one answered him.

"Him and his 'go to the devil' indeed!" said Mrs. Hall. Presently

came an imperfect rumour of the burglary at the vicarage, and two

and two were put together. Hall, assisted by Wadgers, went off to

find Mr. Shuckleforth, the magistrate, and take his advice. No one

ventured upstairs. How the stranger occupied himself is unknown.

Now and then he would stride violently up and down, and twice came

an outburst of curses, a tearing of paper, and a violent smashing

of bottles.

The little group of scared but curious people increased. Mrs. Huxter

came over; some gay young fellows resplendent in black ready-made

jackets and _pique_ paper ties--for it was Whit Monday--joined

the group with confused interrogations. Young Archie Harker

distinguished himself by going up the yard and trying to peep

under the window-blinds. He could see nothing, but gave reason

for supposing that he did, and others of the Iping youth

presently joined him.

It was the finest of all possible Whit Mondays, and down the

village street stood a row of nearly a dozen booths, a shooting

gallery, and on the grass by the forge were three yellow and

chocolate waggons and some picturesque strangers of both sexes

putting up a cocoanut shy. The gentlemen wore blue jerseys, the

ladies white aprons and quite fashionable hats with heavy plumes.

Wodger, of the "Purple Fawn," and Mr. Jaggers, the cobbler, who

also sold old second-hand ordinary bicycles, were stretching a

string of union-jacks and royal ensigns (which had originally

celebrated the first Victorian Jubilee) across the road.

And inside, in the artificial darkness of the parlour, into which

only one thin jet of sunlight penetrated, the stranger, hungry we

must suppose, and fearful, hidden in his uncomfortable hot wrappings,

pored through his dark glasses upon his paper or chinked his dirty

little bottles, and occasionally swore savagely at the boys, audible

if invisible, outside the windows. In the corner by the fireplace

lay the fragments of half a dozen smashed bottles, and a pungent

twang of chlorine tainted the air. So much we know from what was

heard at the time and from what was subsequently seen in the room.

About noon he suddenly opened his parlour door and stood glaring

fixedly at the three or four people in the bar. "Mrs. Hall," he

said. Somebody went sheepishly and called for Mrs. Hall.

Mrs. Hall appeared after an interval, a little short of breath, but

all the fiercer for that. Hall was still out. She had deliberated

over this scene, and she came holding a little tray with an

unsettled bill upon it. "Is it your bill you're wanting, sir?" she

said.

"Why wasn't my breakfast laid? Why haven't you prepared my meals

and answered my bell? Do you think I live without eating?"

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

know."

"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 been

waiting 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 to

yourself, sir," said Mrs. Hall.

The stranger stood looking more like an angry diving-helmet than

ever. It was universally felt in the bar that Mrs. Hall had the

better 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 a

sovereign'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 I

take any bills or get any breakfasts, or do any such things

whatsoever, you got to tell me one or two things I don't understand,

and what nobody don't understand, and what everybody is very anxious

to understand. I want to know what you been doing t'my chair

upstairs, and I want to know how 'tis your room was empty, and how

you got in again. Them as stops in this house comes in by the

doors--that's the rule of the house, and that you _didn't_ do, and

what I want to know is how you _did_ come in. And I want to know--"

Suddenly the stranger raised his gloved hands clenched, stamped his

foot, and said, "Stop!" with such extraordinary violence that he

silenced her instantly.

"You don't understand," he said, "who I am or what I am. I'll show

you. By Heaven! I'll show you." Then he put his open palm over his

face and withdrew it. The centre of his face became a black cavity.

"Here," he said. He stepped forward and handed Mrs. Hall something

which she, staring at his metamorphosed face, accepted automatically.

Then, when she saw what it was, she screamed loudly, dropped it, and

staggered back. The nose--it was the stranger's nose! pink and

shining--rolled on the floor.

Then he removed his spectacles, and everyone in the bar gasped. He

took off his hat, and with a violent gesture tore at his whiskers

and bandages. For a moment they resisted him. A flash of horrible

anticipation passed through the bar. "Oh, my Gard!" said some one.

Then off they came.

It was worse than anything. Mrs. Hall, standing open-mouthed and

horror-struck, shrieked at what she saw, and made for the door of

the house. Everyone began to move. They were prepared for scars,

disfigurements, tangible horrors, but nothing! The bandages and

false hair flew across the passage into the bar, making a

hobbledehoy jump to avoid them. Everyone tumbled on everyone else

down the steps. For the man who stood there shouting some incoherent

explanation, was a solid gesticulating figure up to the coat-collar

of him, and then--nothingness, no visible thing at all!

People down the village heard shouts and shrieks, and looking up

the street saw the "Coach and Horses" violently firing out its

humanity. They saw Mrs. Hall fall down and Mr. Teddy Henfrey jump

to avoid tumbling over her, and then they heard the frightful

screams of Millie, who, emerging suddenly from the kitchen at the

noise of the tumult, had come upon the headless stranger from

behind. These increased suddenly.

Forthwith everyone all down the street, the sweetstuff seller,

cocoanut shy proprietor and his assistant, the swing man, little

boys and girls, rustic dandies, smart wenches, smocked elders

and aproned gipsies--began running towards the inn, and in a

miraculously short space of time a crowd of perhaps forty people,

and rapidly increasing, swayed and hooted and inquired and

exclaimed and suggested, in front of Mrs. Hall's establishment.

Everyone seemed eager to talk at once, and the result was Babel. A

small group supported Mrs. Hall, who was picked up in a state of

collapse. There was a conference, and the incredible evidence of a

vociferous 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." "Fetched

off 'is wrapping, 'e did--"

In its struggles to see in through the open door, the crowd formed

itself into a straggling wedge, with the more adventurous apex

nearest 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 and

a loaf; stood just as if he was staring. Not a moment ago. Went in

that there door. I tell 'e, 'e ain't gart no 'ed at all. You just

missed en--"

There was a disturbance behind, and the speaker stopped to step

aside for a little procession that was marching very resolutely

towards the house; first Mr. Hall, very red and determined, then

Mr. 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 the

parlour and flung it open. "Constable," he said, "do your duty."

Jaffers marched in. Hall next, Wadgers last. They saw in the dim

light the headless figure facing them, with a gnawed crust of bread

in 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 from

above the collar of the figure.

"You're a damned rum customer, mister," said Mr. Jaffers. "But 'ed

or 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 just

grasped the knife on the table in time to save it. Off came the

stranger's left glove and was slapped in Jaffers' face. In another

moment Jaffers, cutting short some statement concerning a warrant,

had gripped him by the handless wrist and caught his invisible

throat. He got a sounding kick on the shin that made him shout, but

he kept his grip. Hall sent the knife sliding along the table to

Wadgers, who acted as goal-keeper for the offensive, so to speak,

and then stepped forward as Jaffers and the stranger swayed and

staggered towards him, clutching and hitting in. A chair stood in

the 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 sounding

kick in the ribs that disposed of him for a moment, and Mr.

Wadgers, seeing the decapitated stranger had rolled over and got

the upper side of Jaffers, retreated towards the door, knife in

hand, and so collided with Mr. Huxter and the Sidderbridge carter

coming to the rescue of law and order. At the same moment down came

three or four bottles from the chiffonnier and shot a web of

pungency 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 now

as well as his left. "It's no good," he said, as if sobbing for

breath.

It was the strangest thing in the world to hear that voice coming

as if out of empty space, but the Sussex peasants are perhaps the

most matter-of-fact people under the sun. Jaffers got up also and

produced a pair of handcuffs. Then he stared.

"I say!" said Jaffers, brought up short by a dim realization of the

incongruity of the whole business, "Darn it! Can't use 'em as I can

see."

The stranger ran his arm down his waistcoat, and as if by a miracle

the buttons to which his empty sleeve pointed became undone. Then

he said something about his shin, and stooped down. He seemed to be

fumbling with his shoes and socks.

"Why!" said Huxter, suddenly, "that's not a man at all. It's just

empty clothes. Look! You can see down his collar and the linings of

his clothes. I could put my arm--"

He extended his hand; it seemed to meet something in mid-air, and

he drew it back with a sharp exclamation. "I wish you'd keep your

fingers out of my eye," said the aerial voice, in a tone of savage

expostulation. "The fact is, I'm all here--head, hands, legs, and

all the rest of it, but it happens I'm invisible. It's a confounded

nuisance, but I am. That's no reason why I should be poked to

pieces by every stupid bumpkin in Iping, is it?"

The suit of clothes, now all unbuttoned and hanging loosely upon

its unseen supports, stood up, arms akimbo.

Several other of the men folks had now entered the room, so that it

was closely crowded. "Invisible, eh?" said Huxter, ignoring the

stranger's abuse. "Who ever heard the likes of that?"

"It's strange, perhaps, but it's not a crime. Why am I assaulted by

a policeman in this fashion?"

"Ah! that's a different matter," said Jaffers. "No doubt you are a

bit difficult to see in this light, but I got a warrant and it's

all 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 no

handcuffs."

"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 was

was being done, the slippers, socks, and trousers had been kicked

off under the table. Then he sprang up again and flung off his coat.

"Here, stop that," said Jaffers, suddenly realising what was

happening. He gripped at the waistcoat; it struggled, and the shirt

slipped out of it and left it limply and empty in his hand. "Hold

him!" said Jaffers, loudly. "Once he gets the things off--"

"Hold him!" cried everyone, and there was a rush at the fluttering

white shirt which was now all that was visible of the stranger.

The shirt-sleeve planted a shrewd blow in Hall's face that stopped

his open-armed advance, and sent him backward into old Toothsome

the sexton, and in another moment the garment was lifted up and

became convulsed and vacantly flapping about the arms, even as a

shirt that is being thrust over a man's head. Jaffers clutched at

it, and only helped to pull it off; he was struck in the mouth out

of the air, and incontinently threw his truncheon and smote Teddy

Henfrey savagely upon the crown of his head.

"Look out!" said everybody, fencing at random and hitting at

nothing. "Hold him! Shut the door! Don't let him loose! I got

something! 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 the

nose, reopened the door and led the rout. The others, following

incontinently, were jammed for a moment in the corner by the

doorway. The hitting continued. Phipps, the Unitarian, had a front

tooth broken, and Henfrey was injured in the cartilage of his ear.

Jaffers was struck under the jaw, and, turning, caught at something

that intervened between him and Huxter in the melee, and prevented

their coming together. He felt a muscular chest, and in another

moment the whole mass of struggling, excited men shot out into the

crowded hall.

"I got him!" shouted Jaffers, choking and reeling through them all,

and wrestling with purple face and swelling veins against his

unseen enemy.

Men staggered right and left as the extraordinary conflict swayed

swiftly towards the house door, and went spinning down the

half-dozen steps of the inn. Jaffers cried in a strangled

voice--holding tight, nevertheless, and making play with his

knee--spun around, and fell heavily undermost with his head on

the 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 come

to light, rushed in at once, caught something, missed his hold,

and fell over the constable's prostrate body. Half-way across the

road a woman screamed as something pushed by her; a dog, kicked

apparently, yelped and ran howling into Huxter's yard, and with

that the transit of the Invisible Man was accomplished. For a space

people stood amazed and gesticulating, and then came panic, and

scattered them abroad through the village as a gust scatters dead

leaves.

But Jaffers lay quite still, face upward and knees bent, at the foot

of the steps of the inn.

CHAPTER VIII

Date: 2015-01-02; view: 930