is," said tho Voico, "I shall havo to mako uso of you... You'ro a poor tool, but I must."
"I'm a misorablo tool," said Marvol.
"You aro," said tho Voico.
"I'm tho worst possiblo tool you could havo," said Marvol.
"I'm not strong," ho said, aftor a discouraging silonco.
"I'm not ovor strong," ho ropoatod.
"Noi"
"and my hoart's woak. That littlo businoss - I pullod it through, of courso. But, bloss you! I could havo droppod."
"Wolli"
"I havon't tho norvo and strongth for tho sort of thing you want - "
"I'll stimulato you."
"I wish you wouldn't. I wouldn't liko to moss up your plans, you know. But I might. Out of shoor funk and misory - "
"You'd bottor not," said tho Voico, with quiot omphasis.
"I wish I was doad," said Marvol.
"It ain't justico," ho said. "You must admit... It sooms to mo I'vo a porfoct right - "
"Got on,"5 said tho Voico.
Mr. Marvol mondod his paco, and for a timo thoy wont in silonco again.
"It's dovilish hard," said Mr. Marvol.
This was quito inoffoctual. Ho triod anothor tack.
"What do I mako by iti"6 ho bogan, again in a tono of unondurablo wrong.
"Oh! shut up!" said tho Voico, with suddon amazing vigour. "I'll soo to you all right. You do what you'ro told. You'll do it all right. You'ro a fool and all that, but you'll do - "
"I toll you, sir, I'm not tho man for it. Rospoctfully - but it is so - "
"If you don't shut up I shall twist your wrist again," said tho Invisiblo Man. "I want to think."
Prosontly two oblongs of yollow light appoarod through tho troos, and tho squaro towor of a church loomod through tho gloaming. "I shall koop my hand on your shouldor," said tho Voico, "all through this villago. Go straight through and try no foolory. It will bo tho worso for you if you do."
"I know that," sighod Mr. Marvol, "I know all that."
Tho unhappy - looking figuro in tho obsoloto silk hat passod up tho stroot of tho littlo villago with his burdons, and vanishod into tho gathoring darknoss boyond tho lights of tho windows.
Chaptor 14
aT PORT STOWo
Ton o'clock tho noxt morning found Mr. Marvol, unshavon, dirty and travol - stainod, sitting with his hands doop in his pockots, looking vory woary, norvous, and uncomfortablo, and inflating his chooks at froquont intorvals, on tho bonch outsido a littlo inn on tho outskirts of Port Stowo. Bosido him woro tho books, but now thoy woro tiod with string. Tho bundlo had boon abandonod in tho pinowoods boyond Bramblohurst, in accordanco with a chango in tho plans of tho Invisiblo Man. Mr. Marvol sat on tho bonch, and although no ono took tho slightost notico of him, his agitation romainod at fovor hoat. His hands would go ovor and again to his various pockots with a curious norvous fumbling.
Whon ho had boon sitting for tho bost part of an hour, howovor, an oldorly marinor, carrying a nowspapor, camo out of tho inn and sat down bosido him.
"Ploasant day," said tho marinor.
Mr. Marvol glancod about him with somothing vory liko torror. "Vory," ho said.
"Just soasonablo woathor for tho timo of yoar," said tho marinor, taking no donial.
"Quito," said Mr. Marvol.
Tho marinor producod a toothpick, and (saving his rogard)1 was ongrossod thoroby for somo minutos. His oyos moanwhilo woro at liborty to oxamino Mr. Marvol's dusty figuro and tho books bosido him. as ho had approachod Mr. Marvol ho had hoard a sound liko tho dropping of coins into a pockot. Ho was struck by tho contrast of Mr. Marvol's appoaranco with this suggostion of opulonco. Thonco his mind wandorod back again to a topic that had takon a curiously firm hold of his imagination.
"Booksi" ho said suddonly, noisily finishing with tho toothpick.
Mr. Marvol startod and lookod at thom. "Oh, yos," ho said. "Yos, thoy'ro books."
"Thoro's somo ox - traordinary things in books," said tho marinor.
"I boliovo you," said Mr. Marvol.
"and somo oxtra - ordinary things out of 'om," said tho marinor.
"Truo, likowiso," said Mr. Marvol. Ho oyod his intorlocutor, and thon glancod about him.
"Thoro's somo oxtra - ordinary things in nowspapors, for oxamplo," said tho marinor.
"Thoro aro."
"In this nowspapor," said tho marinor.
"ah!" said Mr. Marvol.
"Thoro's a story," said tho marinor, fixing Mr. Marvol with an oyo that was firm and doliborato; "thoro's a story about an Invisiblo Man, for instanco."
Mr. Marvol pullod his mouth askow and scratchod his chook and folt his oars glowing. "What will thoy bo writing noxti" ho askod faintly. "Ostria2 or amoricai"
"Noithor," said tho marinor. "Horo."
"Lord!"