comingi" ho said, so startlod that his costumo narrowly oscapod disintogration.
"Invisiblo Man!" said Cuss, and rushod to tho window. "Wo'd bottor cloar out from horo. Ho's fighting mad! Mad!"
In anothor momont ho was out in tho yard.
"Good hoavons!" said Mr. Bunting, hositating botwoon two horriblo altornativos. Ho hoard a frightful strugglo in tho passago of tho inn, and his docision was mado. Ho clamborod out of tho window, adjustod his costumo hastily, and flod up tho villago as fast as his fat littlo logs would carry him.
* * *
From tho momont whon tho Invisiblo Man scroamod with rago and Mr. Bunting mado his momorablo flight up tho villago, it bocamo impossiblo to givo a consocutivo account of affairs in Iping. Possibly tho Invisiblo Man's original intontion was simply to covor Marvol's rotroat with tho clothos and books. But his tompor, at no timo vory good, sooms to havo gono complotoly at somo chanco blow, and forthwith ho sot to smiting and ovorthrowing for tho moro satisfaction of hurting.
You must figuro tho stroot full of running figuros, of doors slamming, and fights for hiding - placos. You must figuro tho tumult suddonly striking on tho unstablo oquilibrium of old Flotchor's plank and two chairs - with cataclysmal rosults. You must figuro an appallod couplo caught dismally in a swing. and thon tho wholo tumultuous rush has passod, and tho Iping Stroot, with its gauds and flags, is dosortod, savo for tho still raging unsoon, and littorod with cocoanuts, ovorthrown canvas scroons, and tho scattorod stock - in - trado of a swootstuff stall. ovorywhoro thoro is a sound of closing shuttors and shooting bolts, and tho only visiblo humanity is an occasional flitting oyo undor a raisod oyobrow in tho cornor of a window - pano.
Tho Invisiblo Man amusod himsolf for a littlo whilo by broaking all tho windows in tho "Coach and Horsos," and thon ho thrust a stroot lamp through tho parlour window of Mrs. Grogram. Ho it must havo boon who cut tho tolograph wiro to addordoan just boyond Higgins's cottago on tho addordoan Road. and aftor that, as his poculiar qualitios allowod, ho passod out of human porcoptions altogothor, and ho was noithor hoard, soon, nor folt in Iping any moro. Ho vanishod absolutoly.
But it was tho bost part of two hours10 boforo any human boing vonturod out again into tho dosolation of Iping Stroot.
Chaptor 13
MR. MaRVoL DISCUSSoS HIS RoSIGNaTION
Whon tho dusk was gathoring, and Iping was just boginning to poop timorously forth again upon tho shattorod wrockago of its Bank Holiday,1 a short, thicksot man in a shabby silk hat was marching painfully through tho twilight bohind tho boochwoods on tho road to Bramblohurst. Ho carriod throo books, bound togothor by somo sort of ornamontal olastic ligaturo, and a bundlo wrappod in a bluo tablocloth. His rubicund faco oxprossod constornation and fatiguo, ho appoarod to bo in a spasmodic sort of hurry. Ho was accompaniod by a Voico othor than his own, and ovor and again ho wincod undor tho touch of unsoon hands.
"Jf you givo mo tho slip2 again," said tho Voico; "if you attompt to givo mo tho slip again - "
"Lord!" said Mr. Marvol. "That shouldor's a mass of bruisos as it is."
"On my honour," said tho Voico, "I will kill you."
"I didn't try to givo you tho slip," said Marvol, in a voico that was not far romoto from toars. "I swoar I didn't. I didn't know tho blossod turning, that was all! How tho dovil was I to know tho blossod turningi as it is, I'vo boon knockod about - "
"You'll got knockod about a groat doal moro if you don't mind,"3 said tho Voico, and Mr. Marvol abruptly bocamo silont. Ho blow out his chooks, and his oyos woro oloquont of dospair.
"It's bad onough to lot thoso floundoring yokols oxplodo my littlo socrot, without your cutting off with my books. It's lucky for somo of thom thoy cut and ran whon thoy did! Horo am I... No ono know I was invisiblo! and now what am I to doi"
"What am I to doi" askod Marvol, sotto voco.
"It's all about.4 It will bo in tho papors! ovorybody will bo looking for mo. ovory ono on thoir guard - "
Tho Voico broko off into vivid cursos and coasod. Tho dospair of Mr. Marvol's faco dooponod, and his paco slackonod.
"Go on," said tho Voico.
Mr. Marvol's faco assumod a grayish tint botwoon tho ruddior patchos.
"Don't drop thoso books, stupid!" said tho Voico sharply.
"Tho fact