“You want more of them?” asked the mariner. “No, thank Heaven, he didn’t.”

He nodded his head slowly.

“It makes me uncomfortable, the thought of that chap running about the country! He is free. And they say he may go to Port Stowe. Just think of the things he might do! Let’s suppose he wants to rob-who can prevent him? He can trespass, he can burgle, he could walk through a cordon of policemen! And wherever there was wine he liked-”

“He’s got an advantage, certainly,” said Mr. Marvel.

“You’re right,” said the mariner. “He has.”

Mr. Marvel looked about him, listened, bent towards the mariner, and lowered his voice:

“The fact is-I know something 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’s tremendous.”

“Indeed!” said the mariner.

“The fact is,” began Mr. Marvel in a confidential tone. Suddenly his expression changed marvellously. “Oh!” he said. His face was eloquent of physical suffering.

“Wow!” he said.

“What’s up?” said the mariner.

“Toothache,” said Mr. Marvel, and put his hand to his cheek. He took his books. “I must go, I think,” he said.

“But you were going to tell me about this Invisible Man!” protested the mariner.

“Hoax,” said a Voice.

“It’s a hoax,” said Mr. Marvel.

“But it’s in the paper,” said the mariner.

“Hoax, I tell you,” said Marvel. “I know the chap that told this lie. There is no Invisible Man whatsoever.”

“But how about this paper? Do you mean to say-?”

“The paper lies,” said Marvel, stoutly.

The mariner stared, paper in hand.

“Wait a bit,” said the mariner, rising and speaking slowly, “Do you mean to say-?”

“I do,” said Mr. Marvel.

“Then why did you listen to me? Why didn’t you stop me? Eh?”

Mr. Marvel blew out his cheeks. The mariner was suddenly very red indeed; he clenched his hands.

“I have been talking here for ten minutes,” he said; “and you, you little pig, couldn’t have the elementary manners-”

“Come up,” said a Voice, and Mr. Marvel was suddenly stood up in a curious spasmodic manner.

“You’d better get away,” said the mariner.

Mr. Marvel went away, but the mariner still stood for some time. Then he turned himself towards Port Stowe.

And there was another extraordinary thing he heard, that had happened quite close to him. That was a vision of a “fist full of money” travelling along by the wall. Another mariner had seen this wonderful sight that morning. He had tried to catch the money and had been knocked down. The story of the flying money was true. And all about that neighbourhood, money had been floating quietly along by walls and shady places. And then the money had ended its mysterious flight in the pocket of the gentleman in the obsolete silk hat, sitting outside the little inn on the outskirts of Port Stowe.

It was ten days after-and the mariner collated these facts and began to understand how near he had been to the wonderful Invisible Man.

In the evening Dr. Kemp was sitting in his study in the belvedere on the hill overlooking Burdock. It was a pleasant little room, with three windows-north, west, and south-and bookshelves covered with books and scientific publications, and a broad writing-table, and, under the north window, a microscope, minute instruments, and scattered bottles of reagents. Dr. Kemp’s lamp was lit, albeit the sky was still bright. Dr. Kemp was a tall and slender young man, with flaxen hair and a moustache almost white. His work would earn him, he hoped, the fellowship of the Royal Society, so highly did he think of it.