November 8, 2023 • 18 mins
"The Invisible Man" is a classic science fiction novel written by H.G. Wells and first published in 1897. The story revolves around the character of Griffin, a brilliant but eccentric scientist who discovers a way to become invisible. After successfully making himself invisible, Griffin quickly realizes that his newfound power comes with significant challenges and consequences.The novel explores the themes of power, morality, and the consequences of unchecked scientific curiosity. Griffin's invisible state allows him to indulge in his darker impulses, leading him down a path of cruelty and criminality. As he struggles to find a way to reverse his condition, he becomes increasingly isolated and desperate.Griffin's invisibility becomes both a physical and metaphorical representation of his detachment from society and his descent into madness. He becomes a symbol of the dangers of unchecked scientific experimentation and the potential for individuals to abuse their power.Throughout the novel, Griffin's actions create a sense of fear and unease in the townspeople who encounter him. As he becomes more unhinged, he becomes a menace, and the novel explores the efforts of those around him to stop his reign of terror."The Invisible Man" is not only a thrilling and suspenseful tale but also a thought-provoking commentary on the human condition and the consequences of playing with forces beyond one's control. It remains a seminal work in the science fiction genre and continues to be studied and adapted into various forms of media.
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(00:00):
This is a LibriVox recording. AllLibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer,please visit w w W dot LibriVox dot
org. To day's reading by AlexFoster w w W dot Alex Foster dot
me dot UK. The Invisible Manby H. G. Wells, Chapter
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eight in transit. The eighth chapteris exceedingly brief and relates that Gibbons,
the amateur naturalist of the district,while lying out on the spacious open downs
without a soul within a couple ofmiles of him, as he thought and
almost dozing, heard close to himthe sound of a man coughing, sneezing,
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and then swearing savagely to himself.And looking beheld nothing, yet the
voice was indisputable. It continued toswear with that breadth and variety that distinguished
the swearing of a cultivated man.It grew to a client max, diminished
again, and died away in thedistance, going, as it seemed to
him, in the direction of Adadeen. It lifted to a spasmodic sneeze and
(01:07):
ended. Gibbons had heard nothing ofthe morning's occurrences, but the phenomenon was
so striking and disturbing that his philosophicaltranquility vanished. He got up hastily and
hurried down the steepness of the hilltowards the village as fast as he could
go. Chapter nine. Mister ThomasMarvel. You must picture mister Thomas Marvel
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as a person of copious, flexiblevisage, a nose of cylindrical protrusion,
a licorice ample, fluctuating mouth,and a beard of bristling eccentricity. His
figure inclined to en bomboins. Hisshort limbs accentuated this inclination. He wore
a furry silk hat, and thefrequent substitution of twined and shoelaces for buttons
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apparent at critical points of his costume. Marked a man is essentially bachelor.
Mister Thomas Marvel was sitting with hisfeet in a ditch by the roadside over
the down towards Anderdean, about amile and a half out of iping.
His feet, save for socks ofirregular open work, were bare. His
big toes were broad and pricked,like the ears of a watchful dog.
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In a leisurely manner. He dideverything in a leisurely manner. He was
contemplating trying on a pair of boots. They were the soundest boots he had
come across for a long time,but too large for him, whereas the
ones he had were in dry weather, a very comfortable fit, but too
thin sold for damp. Mister ThomasMarvel hated roomy shoes, but then he
hated damp. He had never properlythought out which he hated most, And
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it was a pleasant day, andthere was nothing better to do. So
he put the four shoes in agraceful group on the turf and looked at
them, and seeing them there amongthe grass and springing agrimony, it suddenly
occurred to him that both pairs wereexceedingly ugly. To see, he was
not at all startled by a voicebehind him. They're boots, anyhow,
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said the voice. They are charityboots, said mister Thomas Marvel, with
his head on one side, regardingthem distastefully. And which is the ugliest
pair in this whole blessed universe.I'm darned if I know, hum,
said the voice. I've worn worse. In fact, I've worn none,
but none so audacious ugly. Ifyou'll allow the expression I've been catching boots
in particular for days because I wassick of them. They're sound enough,
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of course, but a gentleman ontramp sees such a thundering lot of his
boots. And if you'll believe me, I've raised in nothing in the whole
blessed country that I try as Iwould, but them look at them.
And a good country for boots too, in a general way. But it's
just my promiscuous luck. I getmy boots in this country ten years or
more, and they treat you likethis. It's a beast of a country,
said the voice. And pigs forpeople, ain't it, said mister
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Thomas Marvel, Lord, But themboots, it beats it. He turned
his head over to his shoulder atthe right to look at the boots of
his interlocutor with a view to comparisons, and lo where the boots of his
interlocutor should have been were neither legsnor boots. He was irradiated by the
dawn of a great amazement. Whereare ye, said mister Thomas Marvel over
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his shoulder, and coming on allfours, he saw a stretch of empty
downs, with the wind swaying,and remote green pointed furze bushes. Am
I drunk? Said mister Marvel.Have I had visions? Was I talking
to myself? What the Don't bealarmed, said a voice. None of
your ventral aquizing me, said misterThomas Marvel, rising sharply to his feet.
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Where are ye alarmed? Indeed,don't be alarmed, repeated the voice.
You'll be alarmed in a minute,you silly fool, said mister Thomas
Marvel. Where are ye? Letme get my mark on you. Are
ye buried? Said mister Thomas Marvel. After an interval, there was no
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answer. Mister Thomas Marvel stood bootlessand amazed, his jacket nearly thrown off.
Peeweat, said a peewitt. Veryremote peewit. Indeed, said mister
Thomas Marvel. This ain't no timefor foolery. The down was desolate,
east and west, north and south. The road, with its shallow ditches
and white bordering stakes, ran smoothand empty north and south. And save
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for that peewit, the blue skywas empty too. So help me,
said mister Thomas Marvell, shuffling hiscoat on to his shoulders. Again,
it's the drink, I might haveknown. It's not the drink, said
the voice. You keep your nervessteady, oh, said mister Marvel,
and his face grew white amidst itspatches. It's the drink, his lips
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repeated noiselessly. He remained staring abouthim, rotating slowly backwards. We could
have swore I heard a voice,he whispered. Of course you did.
It's there again, said mister Marvell, closing his eyes and clasping his hand
on his brow with a tragic gesture. He was suddenly taken by the collar
and shaken violently, and left moredazed than ever. Don't be of said
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the voice. I'm off my bloomin chump, said mister Marvel. It's
no good. It's fretting about themblasted boots. I'm off my blessed bloom
in chump or its spirits. Neitherone thing nor the other, said the
voice. Listen, chump, saidmister Marvel. One minute, said the
voice, penetratingly tremulous with self control, Well, said mister Thomas Marvel,
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with a strange feeling of having beendug in the chest by a finger.
You think I'm just imagination, justimagination, What else can you be?
Said mister Thomas Marvel, rubbing theback of his neck very well, said
the voice, in a tone ofrelief. Then I'm going to throw flints
at you until you think differently.But what are you? The voice made
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no answer. Whiz came a flint, apparently out of the air, and
missed mister Marvel's shoulder by a hair'sbreadth. Mister Marvel, turning, saw
a flint jerk up into the air, trace a complicated hang for a moment,
then fling at his feet with almostinvisible rapidity. He was too amazed
to dodge Whiz as it came andricocheted from a bare toe into the ditch.
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Mister Thomas Marvell jumped a foot andhowled aloud. Then he started to
run, tripped over an unseen obstacle, and came head over heels into a
sitting position. Now, said thevoice, as a third stone curved upward
and hung in the air above thetramp, am I imagination. Mister Marvel,
by way of reply, struggled tohis feet and was immediately rolled over
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again. He lay quiet for amoment. If you struggle any more,
said the voice, I shall throwthe flint at your head. It's a
fair ado, said mister Thomas Marvel, sitting up, taking his wounded toe
in hand and fixing his eye onthe third missile. I don't understand it.
Stones flinging themselves, stones talking,put yourself down, rot away.
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I'm done. The third flint fell. It's very simple, said the voice.
I'm an invisible man. Tell ussomething I don't know, said mister
Marvel, gasping with pain. Whereyou've hit? How you I? I
don't know. I'm beat, That'sall, said the voice. I'm invisible.
That's what I want you to understand. Any one could see that.
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There's no need for you to beso confounded impatient. Mister, Now,
then give us a notion. Howare you hid? I'm invisible. That's
the great point. And what Iwant you to understand is this. But
whereabouts, interrupted mister Marvel, Heresix yards in front of you. Oh
come, I ain't blind. You'llbe telling me next you're just thin air.
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I'm not one of your ignorant tramps. Yes, I am thin air.
You're looking through me? What ain'tany stuff? Do you? Vox
it? Oh? Why is it? Jabber? Is that it? I'm
just a human being, solid,needing food and drink, needing covering too,
But I'm invisible. You see invisible? Simple idea? Invisible? What
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reel like? Yes? Real?Let's have a hand of you, said
Marvel. If you are real,won't be so darn out of the way
like then? Lord, he said, how you made me jump? Griping
me like that? He felt thehand that had closed round his wrist with
his disengaged fingers, and his fingerswent timorously up the arm, patted a
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muscular chest, and explored a beardedface. Marvel's face was astonishment. I'm
dashed, he said, if thisdon't be cock fighting, most remarkable,
And there I can see a rabbitclean through. You are a mile away.
Not a bit of you visible,except he scrutinized the apparently empty space.
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Keenly, you haven't been eating breadand cheese, he asked, holding
the invisible arm. You're quite right, and it's not quite assimilated into the
system, ah, said mister Marvel. Sort of ghostly though, of course,
all this isn't half wonderful as youthink. It's quite wonderful enough for
my modest ones, said mister ThomasMarvel. Oh do you manage it?
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Oh the deuce? Is it done? It's too long a story. And
besides, I tell you the oldbusiness fairly beats me, said mister Marvel.
What I want to say at presentis this, I need help.
I have come to that. Icame upon you suddenly. I was wandering,
mad with rage, naked, impotent, I could have murdered, and
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I saw you, Lord, saidmister Marvel. I came up behind you,
hesitated, went on. Mister Marvell'sexpression was eloquent. Then stopped here,
I said, is an outcast likemyself? This is the man for
me. So I turned back andcame to you. You and Lord,
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said mister Marvel. But I'm allin a tizzy. I ask how is
it? And what you may berequire in the way of help? Invisible,
I want you to help me getclothes and shelter, and then with
other things. I've left them longenough. If you won't, well,
but you will. Must look here, said mister Marvel. I'm too flabbergasted.
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Don't knock me about any more andleave me go. I must steady
a bit, and you've pretty nearbroken my toe. It's also unreasonable.
Empty down's empty sky, nothing visiblefor miles except the bosom of nature.
And then comes a voice, avoice out of heaven and stones and a
fist. Lord, pull yourself together, said the voice, for you have
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to do the job I have chosenfor you. Mister Marvel blew out his
cheeks and his eyes were round.I've chosen you, said the voice.
You are the only man, exceptsome of those fools down there, who
knows there is such a thing asan invisible man. You have to be
my helper, help me, andI will do great things for you.
An invisible man is a man ofpower. He stopped for a moment to
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sneeze violently. But if you betrayme, he said, if you failed
to do as I direct you,He paused and tapped mister Marvell's shoulder smartly.
Mister Marvell gave a yelp of terrorat the touch. I don't want
to betray you, said mister Marvell, edging away from the direction of the
fingers. Don't you go a thinkin that wherever you do. All I
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want to do is help you.Just tell me what I got to do
the ward. Whatever you want done, that I'm most willing to do.
Chapter ten, mister Marvel's visit toIping after the first gusty panic had spent
itself. Iping became argumentative. Skepticismsuddenly reared its head, rather nervous,
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skepticism not at all assured of itsback, but skepticism none the less.
It is so much easier not tobelieve in an invisible man. And those
who had actually seen him dissolve intoair or felt the strength of his arm
could be counted on the fingers oftwo hands. And of those witnesses,
mister Wadgers was presently missing, havingretired impregnably behind the bolts and bars of
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his own house, and Jaffers waslying stunned in the parlor of the coach
and horses. Great and strange ideastranscending experience often have less effect upon men
and women than smaller, more tangibleconsiderations. Iping was gay with bunting,
and everybody was in gala dress.Whit Monday had been looked forward to for
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a month or more. By theafternoon, even those who believed in the
unseen were beginning to resume their littleamusements in a tentative fashion, and on
the supposition that he had gone quiteaway, And with the skeptics, he
was already addressed. But people,skeptics and believers alike were remarkably sociable.
All that day. Hayesman's meadow wasgay, with a tent in which Missus
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Bunting and other ladies were preparing teawhile without The Sunday school children ran races
and played games under the noisy guidanceof the cue and the Missus Cuss and
Sackbut no doubt there was a slightuneasiness in the air, but people,
for the most part had the senseto conceal whatever imaginative qualms they experienced.
On the village Green, an inclinedstring down which, clinging the while to
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a pulley swung handle, one couldbe hurled violently against a sack at the
other end, came in for considerablefavor among the adolescent, as also did
the swings and the coconut shies.There was also promenading, and the steam
organ attached to a small roundabout filledthe air with a plungent flavor of oil
and with equally pungent music. Membersof the club who had attended church in
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the morning were splendid in badges ofpink and green, and some of the
gayer mind it had adorned their bowlerhats with brilliant colored flowers of ribbon.
Old Fletcher, whose conceptions of holidaymaking were severe, was visible through the
jasmine about his window or through theopen door, whichever way you chose to
look, poised delicately on a plank, supported on two chairs, and whitewashing
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the ceiling of his front room.About four o'clock a stranger entered the village
from the direction of the downs.He was a short, stout person in
an extraordinarily shabby top hat, andhe appeared to be very much out of
breath. His cheeks were alternately limpand tightly puffed. His marttled face was
apprehensive, and he moved with asort of reluctant alacrity. He turned the
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corner of the church and directed hisway to the coach and horses, among
others. Old Fletcher remembered seeing him, and indeed the old gentleman was so
struck by his peculiar agitation that heinadvertently allowed a quantity of whitewash to run
down the brush into the sleeve ofhis coat whilst regarding him. This stranger,
to the perceptions of the proprietor ofthe Cocoanut shy, appeared to be
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talking to himself, and mister Hucksterremarked the same thing. He stopped at
the foot of the coach and horse'ssteps, and, according to mister Huckster,
appeared to undergo a severe internal strugglebefore he could induce himself to enter
the house. Finally, he markedrush up the steps, and was seen
by mister Huxter to turn to theleft and open the door of the parlor.
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Mister Huckster heard voices from within theroom and from the bar, apprising
the man of his error. Thatroom's private said hall, and the stranger
shut the door clumsily and went intothe bar. In the course of a
few minutes, he reappeared, wipinghis lips with the back of his hand,
with an air of quiet satisfaction thatsomehow impressed mister Huckster, as he
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assumed, he stood looking about himfor some moments, and then mister Huckster
saw him walk in an oddly furtivemanner towards the gates of the yard,
upon which the parlor window opened.The stranger, after some hesitation, leant
against one of the gate posts,produced a short clay pipe, and prepared
to fill it. His fingers trembledWhile doing so, he lit it clumsily
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and folded his arms began to smokein a languid attitude, an attitude which
his occasional glances up the yard altogetherbelied. All this, mister Huxter saw
over the canisters of the tobacco window, and the singularity of the man's behavior
prompted him to maintain his observation.Presently, the stranger stood up abruptly and
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put his pipe in his pocket.Then he vanished into the yard forthwith mister
Huckster, conceiving he was witness ofsome petty larceny, leaped around his counter
and ran out into the road tointercept the thief. As he did so,
mister Marvel reappeared, his hat askew, a big bundle in a blue
tablecloth in one hand, and threebooks tied together, as it proved afterwards,
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with the vicar's braces in the other. Directly he saw Huckster. He
gave a short of gasp, and, turning sharply to the left, began
to run. Stop thief, criedHuckster, and set off after him.
Mister Huckster's sensations were vivid but brief. He saw the man just before him,
and spurting briskly for the church cornerand the hill road, he saw
the village flags and festivities beyond,and a face or so turned towards him.
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He bawled stop again. He hadhardly 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 tosplash into a million whirling specks of light,
and subsequent proceedings interested him no more. End of Chapter ten, recorded
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in Nottingham, England, on theIDEs of March by Alex Foster www dot
Alex Foster dot me dot uk.
This is a LibriVox recording. AllLibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information or to volunteer,please visit w w W dot LibriVox dot
org. To day's reading by AlexFoster w w W dot Alex Foster dot
me dot UK. The Invisible Manby H. G. Wells, Chapter
(00:23):
eight in transit. The eighth chapteris exceedingly brief and relates that Gibbons,
the amateur naturalist of the district,while lying out on the spacious open downs
without a soul within a couple ofmiles of him, as he thought and
almost dozing, heard close to himthe sound of a man coughing, sneezing,
(00:44):
and then swearing savagely to himself.And looking beheld nothing, yet the
voice was indisputable. It continued toswear with that breadth and variety that distinguished
the swearing of a cultivated man.It grew to a client max, diminished
again, and died away in thedistance, going, as it seemed to
him, in the direction of Adadeen. It lifted to a spasmodic sneeze and
(01:07):
ended. Gibbons had heard nothing ofthe morning's occurrences, but the phenomenon was
so striking and disturbing that his philosophicaltranquility vanished. He got up hastily and
hurried down the steepness of the hilltowards the village as fast as he could
go. Chapter nine. Mister ThomasMarvel. You must picture mister Thomas Marvel
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as a person of copious, flexiblevisage, a nose of cylindrical protrusion,
a licorice ample, fluctuating mouth,and a beard of bristling eccentricity. His
figure inclined to en bomboins. Hisshort limbs accentuated this inclination. He wore
a furry silk hat, and thefrequent substitution of twined and shoelaces for buttons
(01:56):
apparent at critical points of his costume. Marked a man is essentially bachelor.
Mister Thomas Marvel was sitting with hisfeet in a ditch by the roadside over
the down towards Anderdean, about amile and a half out of iping.
His feet, save for socks ofirregular open work, were bare. His
big toes were broad and pricked,like the ears of a watchful dog.
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In a leisurely manner. He dideverything in a leisurely manner. He was
contemplating trying on a pair of boots. They were the soundest boots he had
come across for a long time,but too large for him, whereas the
ones he had were in dry weather, a very comfortable fit, but too
thin sold for damp. Mister ThomasMarvel hated roomy shoes, but then he
hated damp. He had never properlythought out which he hated most, And
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it was a pleasant day, andthere was nothing better to do. So
he put the four shoes in agraceful group on the turf and looked at
them, and seeing them there amongthe grass and springing agrimony, it suddenly
occurred to him that both pairs wereexceedingly ugly. To see, he was
not at all startled by a voicebehind him. They're boots, anyhow,
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said the voice. They are charityboots, said mister Thomas Marvel, with
his head on one side, regardingthem distastefully. And which is the ugliest
pair in this whole blessed universe.I'm darned if I know, hum,
said the voice. I've worn worse. In fact, I've worn none,
but none so audacious ugly. Ifyou'll allow the expression I've been catching boots
in particular for days because I wassick of them. They're sound enough,
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of course, but a gentleman ontramp sees such a thundering lot of his
boots. And if you'll believe me, I've raised in nothing in the whole
blessed country that I try as Iwould, but them look at them.
And a good country for boots too, in a general way. But it's
just my promiscuous luck. I getmy boots in this country ten years or
more, and they treat you likethis. It's a beast of a country,
said the voice. And pigs forpeople, ain't it, said mister
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Thomas Marvel, Lord, But themboots, it beats it. He turned
his head over to his shoulder atthe right to look at the boots of
his interlocutor with a view to comparisons, and lo where the boots of his
interlocutor should have been were neither legsnor boots. He was irradiated by the
dawn of a great amazement. Whereare ye, said mister Thomas Marvel over
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his shoulder, and coming on allfours, he saw a stretch of empty
downs, with the wind swaying,and remote green pointed furze bushes. Am
I drunk? Said mister Marvel.Have I had visions? Was I talking
to myself? What the Don't bealarmed, said a voice. None of
your ventral aquizing me, said misterThomas Marvel, rising sharply to his feet.
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Where are ye alarmed? Indeed,don't be alarmed, repeated the voice.
You'll be alarmed in a minute,you silly fool, said mister Thomas
Marvel. Where are ye? Letme get my mark on you. Are
ye buried? Said mister Thomas Marvel. After an interval, there was no
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answer. Mister Thomas Marvel stood bootlessand amazed, his jacket nearly thrown off.
Peeweat, said a peewitt. Veryremote peewit. Indeed, said mister
Thomas Marvel. This ain't no timefor foolery. The down was desolate,
east and west, north and south. The road, with its shallow ditches
and white bordering stakes, ran smoothand empty north and south. And save
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for that peewit, the blue skywas empty too. So help me,
said mister Thomas Marvell, shuffling hiscoat on to his shoulders. Again,
it's the drink, I might haveknown. It's not the drink, said
the voice. You keep your nervessteady, oh, said mister Marvel,
and his face grew white amidst itspatches. It's the drink, his lips
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repeated noiselessly. He remained staring abouthim, rotating slowly backwards. We could
have swore I heard a voice,he whispered. Of course you did.
It's there again, said mister Marvell, closing his eyes and clasping his hand
on his brow with a tragic gesture. He was suddenly taken by the collar
and shaken violently, and left moredazed than ever. Don't be of said
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the voice. I'm off my bloomin chump, said mister Marvel. It's
no good. It's fretting about themblasted boots. I'm off my blessed bloom
in chump or its spirits. Neitherone thing nor the other, said the
voice. Listen, chump, saidmister Marvel. One minute, said the
voice, penetratingly tremulous with self control, Well, said mister Thomas Marvel,
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with a strange feeling of having beendug in the chest by a finger.
You think I'm just imagination, justimagination, What else can you be?
Said mister Thomas Marvel, rubbing theback of his neck very well, said
the voice, in a tone ofrelief. Then I'm going to throw flints
at you until you think differently.But what are you? The voice made
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no answer. Whiz came a flint, apparently out of the air, and
missed mister Marvel's shoulder by a hair'sbreadth. Mister Marvel, turning, saw
a flint jerk up into the air, trace a complicated hang for a moment,
then fling at his feet with almostinvisible rapidity. He was too amazed
to dodge Whiz as it came andricocheted from a bare toe into the ditch.
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Mister Thomas Marvell jumped a foot andhowled aloud. Then he started to
run, tripped over an unseen obstacle, and came head over heels into a
sitting position. Now, said thevoice, as a third stone curved upward
and hung in the air above thetramp, am I imagination. Mister Marvel,
by way of reply, struggled tohis feet and was immediately rolled over
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again. He lay quiet for amoment. If you struggle any more,
said the voice, I shall throwthe flint at your head. It's a
fair ado, said mister Thomas Marvel, sitting up, taking his wounded toe
in hand and fixing his eye onthe third missile. I don't understand it.
Stones flinging themselves, stones talking,put yourself down, rot away.
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I'm done. The third flint fell. It's very simple, said the voice.
I'm an invisible man. Tell ussomething I don't know, said mister
Marvel, gasping with pain. Whereyou've hit? How you I? I
don't know. I'm beat, That'sall, said the voice. I'm invisible.
That's what I want you to understand. Any one could see that.
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There's no need for you to beso confounded impatient. Mister, Now,
then give us a notion. Howare you hid? I'm invisible. That's
the great point. And what Iwant you to understand is this. But
whereabouts, interrupted mister Marvel, Heresix yards in front of you. Oh
come, I ain't blind. You'llbe telling me next you're just thin air.
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I'm not one of your ignorant tramps. Yes, I am thin air.
You're looking through me? What ain'tany stuff? Do you? Vox
it? Oh? Why is it? Jabber? Is that it? I'm
just a human being, solid,needing food and drink, needing covering too,
But I'm invisible. You see invisible? Simple idea? Invisible? What
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reel like? Yes? Real?Let's have a hand of you, said
Marvel. If you are real,won't be so darn out of the way
like then? Lord, he said, how you made me jump? Griping
me like that? He felt thehand that had closed round his wrist with
his disengaged fingers, and his fingerswent timorously up the arm, patted a
(09:26):
muscular chest, and explored a beardedface. Marvel's face was astonishment. I'm
dashed, he said, if thisdon't be cock fighting, most remarkable,
And there I can see a rabbitclean through. You are a mile away.
Not a bit of you visible,except he scrutinized the apparently empty space.
(09:46):
Keenly, you haven't been eating breadand cheese, he asked, holding
the invisible arm. You're quite right, and it's not quite assimilated into the
system, ah, said mister Marvel. Sort of ghostly though, of course,
all this isn't half wonderful as youthink. It's quite wonderful enough for
my modest ones, said mister ThomasMarvel. Oh do you manage it?
(10:09):
Oh the deuce? Is it done? It's too long a story. And
besides, I tell you the oldbusiness fairly beats me, said mister Marvel.
What I want to say at presentis this, I need help.
I have come to that. Icame upon you suddenly. I was wandering,
mad with rage, naked, impotent, I could have murdered, and
(10:30):
I saw you, Lord, saidmister Marvel. I came up behind you,
hesitated, went on. Mister Marvell'sexpression was eloquent. Then stopped here,
I said, is an outcast likemyself? This is the man for
me. So I turned back andcame to you. You and Lord,
(10:52):
said mister Marvel. But I'm allin a tizzy. I ask how is
it? And what you may berequire in the way of help? Invisible,
I want you to help me getclothes and shelter, and then with
other things. I've left them longenough. If you won't, well,
but you will. Must look here, said mister Marvel. I'm too flabbergasted.
(11:16):
Don't knock me about any more andleave me go. I must steady
a bit, and you've pretty nearbroken my toe. It's also unreasonable.
Empty down's empty sky, nothing visiblefor miles except the bosom of nature.
And then comes a voice, avoice out of heaven and stones and a
fist. Lord, pull yourself together, said the voice, for you have
(11:39):
to do the job I have chosenfor you. Mister Marvel blew out his
cheeks and his eyes were round.I've chosen you, said the voice.
You are the only man, exceptsome of those fools down there, who
knows there is such a thing asan invisible man. You have to be
my helper, help me, andI will do great things for you.
An invisible man is a man ofpower. He stopped for a moment to
(12:03):
sneeze violently. But if you betrayme, he said, if you failed
to do as I direct you,He paused and tapped mister Marvell's shoulder smartly.
Mister Marvell gave a yelp of terrorat the touch. I don't want
to betray you, said mister Marvell, edging away from the direction of the
fingers. Don't you go a thinkin that wherever you do. All I
(12:24):
want to do is help you.Just tell me what I got to do
the ward. Whatever you want done, that I'm most willing to do.
Chapter ten, mister Marvel's visit toIping after the first gusty panic had spent
itself. Iping became argumentative. Skepticismsuddenly reared its head, rather nervous,
(12:48):
skepticism not at all assured of itsback, but skepticism none the less.
It is so much easier not tobelieve in an invisible man. And those
who had actually seen him dissolve intoair or felt the strength of his arm
could be counted on the fingers oftwo hands. And of those witnesses,
mister Wadgers was presently missing, havingretired impregnably behind the bolts and bars of
(13:09):
his own house, and Jaffers waslying stunned in the parlor of the coach
and horses. Great and strange ideastranscending experience often have less effect upon men
and women than smaller, more tangibleconsiderations. Iping was gay with bunting,
and everybody was in gala dress.Whit Monday had been looked forward to for
(13:30):
a month or more. By theafternoon, even those who believed in the
unseen were beginning to resume their littleamusements in a tentative fashion, and on
the supposition that he had gone quiteaway, And with the skeptics, he
was already addressed. But people,skeptics and believers alike were remarkably sociable.
All that day. Hayesman's meadow wasgay, with a tent in which Missus
(13:52):
Bunting and other ladies were preparing teawhile without The Sunday school children ran races
and played games under the noisy guidanceof the cue and the Missus Cuss and
Sackbut no doubt there was a slightuneasiness in the air, but people,
for the most part had the senseto conceal whatever imaginative qualms they experienced.
On the village Green, an inclinedstring down which, clinging the while to
(14:15):
a pulley swung handle, one couldbe hurled violently against a sack at the
other end, came in for considerablefavor among the adolescent, as also did
the swings and the coconut shies.There was also promenading, and the steam
organ attached to a small roundabout filledthe air with a plungent flavor of oil
and with equally pungent music. Membersof the club who had attended church in
(14:37):
the morning were splendid in badges ofpink and green, and some of the
gayer mind it had adorned their bowlerhats with brilliant colored flowers of ribbon.
Old Fletcher, whose conceptions of holidaymaking were severe, was visible through the
jasmine about his window or through theopen door, whichever way you chose to
look, poised delicately on a plank, supported on two chairs, and whitewashing
(14:58):
the ceiling of his front room.About four o'clock a stranger entered the village
from the direction of the downs.He was a short, stout person in
an extraordinarily shabby top hat, andhe appeared to be very much out of
breath. His cheeks were alternately limpand tightly puffed. His marttled face was
apprehensive, and he moved with asort of reluctant alacrity. He turned the
(15:22):
corner of the church and directed hisway to the coach and horses, among
others. Old Fletcher remembered seeing him, and indeed the old gentleman was so
struck by his peculiar agitation that heinadvertently allowed a quantity of whitewash to run
down the brush into the sleeve ofhis coat whilst regarding him. This stranger,
to the perceptions of the proprietor ofthe Cocoanut shy, appeared to be
(15:43):
talking to himself, and mister Hucksterremarked the same thing. He stopped at
the foot of the coach and horse'ssteps, and, according to mister Huckster,
appeared to undergo a severe internal strugglebefore he could induce himself to enter
the house. Finally, he markedrush up the steps, and was seen
by mister Huxter to turn to theleft and open the door of the parlor.
(16:04):
Mister Huckster heard voices from within theroom and from the bar, apprising
the man of his error. Thatroom's private said hall, and the stranger
shut the door clumsily and went intothe bar. In the course of a
few minutes, he reappeared, wipinghis lips with the back of his hand,
with an air of quiet satisfaction thatsomehow impressed mister Huckster, as he
(16:25):
assumed, he stood looking about himfor some moments, and then mister Huckster
saw him walk in an oddly furtivemanner towards the gates of the yard,
upon which the parlor window opened.The stranger, after some hesitation, leant
against one of the gate posts,produced a short clay pipe, and prepared
to fill it. His fingers trembledWhile doing so, he lit it clumsily
(16:47):
and folded his arms began to smokein a languid attitude, an attitude which
his occasional glances up the yard altogetherbelied. All this, mister Huxter saw
over the canisters of the tobacco window, and the singularity of the man's behavior
prompted him to maintain his observation.Presently, the stranger stood up abruptly and
(17:08):
put his pipe in his pocket.Then he vanished into the yard forthwith mister
Huckster, conceiving he was witness ofsome petty larceny, leaped around his counter
and ran out into the road tointercept the thief. As he did so,
mister Marvel reappeared, his hat askew, a big bundle in a blue
tablecloth in one hand, and threebooks tied together, as it proved afterwards,
(17:30):
with the vicar's braces in the other. Directly he saw Huckster. He
gave a short of gasp, and, turning sharply to the left, began
to run. Stop thief, criedHuckster, and set off after him.
Mister Huckster's sensations were vivid but brief. He saw the man just before him,
and spurting briskly for the church cornerand the hill road, he saw
the village flags and festivities beyond,and a face or so turned towards him.
(17:55):
He bawled stop again. He hadhardly 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 tosplash into a million whirling specks of light,
and subsequent proceedings interested him no more. End of Chapter ten, recorded
(18:22):
in Nottingham, England, on theIDEs of March by Alex Foster www dot
Alex Foster dot me dot uk.
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