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 just
before him and spurting briskly for the church corner and the hill
road. He saw the village flags and festivities beyond, and a face or
so turned towards him. He bawled, "Stop!" again. He had hardly gone
ten strides before his shin was caught in some mysterious fashion,
and he was no longer running, but flying with inconceivable rapidity
through the air. He saw the ground suddenly close to his face. The
world seemed to splash into a million whirling specks of light, and
subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
Chapter XI - In the "Coach and Horses"
*
Now in order clearly to understand what had happened in the inn, it
is necessary to go back to the moment when Mr. Marvel first came
into 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 the
morning, and were, with Mr. Hall's permission, making a thorough
examination of the Invisible Man's belongings. Jaffers had partially
recovered from his fall and had gone home in the charge of his
sympathetic friends. The stranger's scattered garments had been
removed by Mrs. Hall and the room tidied up. And on the table under
the window where the stranger had been wont to work, Cuss had hit
almost at once on three big books in manuscript labelled "Diary."
"Diary!" said Cuss, putting the three books on the table. "Now, at
any rate, we shall learn something." The Vicar stood with his hands
on the table.
"Diary," repeated Cuss, sitting down, putting two volumes to
support 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 illustrations
throwing light—"
"See for yourself," said Mr. Cuss. "Some of it's mathematical and
some of it's Russian or some such language (to judge by the
letters), and some of it's Greek. Now the Greek I thought
you
—"
"Of course," said Mr. Bunting, taking out and wiping his spectacles
and feeling suddenly very uncomfortable—for he had no Greek
left 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
, you
know, we can go looking for clues."
He coughed, put on his glasses, arranged them fastidiously, coughed
again, and wished something would happen to avert the seemingly
inevitable exposure. Then he took the volume Cuss handed him in a
leisurely manner. And then something did happen.
The door opened suddenly.
Both gentlemen started violently, looked round, and were relieved
to 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 shut
that door," said Mr. Cuss, irritably.
"All right," said the intruder, as it seemed in a low voice
curiously different from the huskiness of its first inquiry. "Right
you are," said the intruder in the former voice. "Stand clear!" and
he vanished and closed the door.
"A sailor, I should judge," said Mr. Bunting. "Amusing fellows, they
are. Stand clear! indeed. A nautical term, referring to his getting
back out of the room, I suppose."
"I daresay so," said Cuss. "My nerves are all loose to-day. It quite
made me jump—the door opening like that."
Mr. Bunting smiled as if he had not jumped. "And now," he said with
a sigh, "these books."
Someone sniffed as he did so.
"One thing is indisputable," said Bunting, drawing up a chair next
to that of Cuss. "There certainly have been very strange
began to run. "Stop, thief!" cried Huxter, and set off after him.
Mr. Huxter's sensations were vivid but brief. He saw the man just
before him and spurting briskly for the church corner and the hill
road. He saw the village flags and festivities beyond, and a face or
so turned towards him. He bawled, "Stop!" again. He had hardly gone
ten strides before his shin was caught in some mysterious fashion,
and he was no longer running, but flying with inconceivable rapidity
through the air. He saw the ground suddenly close to his face. The
world seemed to splash into a million whirling specks of light, and
subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
Chapter XI - In the "Coach and Horses"
*
Now in order clearly to understand what had happened in the inn, it
is necessary to go back to the moment when Mr. Marvel first came
into 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 the
morning, and were, with Mr. Hall's permission, making a thorough
examination of the Invisible Man's belongings. Jaffers had partially
recovered from his fall and had gone home in the charge of his
sympathetic friends. The stranger's scattered garments had been
removed by Mrs. Hall and the room tidied up. And on the table under
the window where the stranger had been wont to work, Cuss had hit
almost at once on three big books in manuscript labelled "Diary."
"Diary!" said Cuss, putting the three books on the table. "Now, at
any rate, we shall learn something." The Vicar stood with his hands
on the table.
"Diary," repeated Cuss, sitting down, putting two volumes to
support 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 illustrations
throwing light—"
"See for yourself," said Mr. Cuss. "Some of it's mathematical and
some of it's Russian or some such language (to judge by the
letters), and some of it's Greek. Now the Greek I thought
you
—"
"Of course," said Mr. Bunting, taking out and wiping his spectacles
and feeling suddenly very uncomfortable—for he had no Greek
left 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
, you
know, we can go looking for clues."
He coughed, put on his glasses, arranged them fastidiously, coughed
again, and wished something would happen to avert the seemingly
inevitable exposure. Then he took the volume Cuss handed him in a
leisurely manner. And then something did happen.
The door opened suddenly.
Both gentlemen started violently, looked round, and were relieved
to 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 shut
that door," said Mr. Cuss, irritably.
"All right," said the intruder, as it seemed in a low voice
curiously different from the huskiness of its first inquiry. "Right
you are," said the intruder in the former voice. "Stand clear!" and
he vanished and closed the door.
"A sailor, I should judge," said Mr. Bunting. "Amusing fellows, they
are. Stand clear! indeed. A nautical term, referring to his getting
back out of the room, I suppose."
"I daresay so," said Cuss. "My nerves are all loose to-day. It quite
made me jump—the door opening like that."
Mr. Bunting smiled as if he had not jumped. "And now," he said with
a sigh, "these books."
Someone sniffed as he did so.
"One thing is indisputable," said Bunting, drawing up a chair next
to that of Cuss. "There certainly have been very strange
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