The Invisible Man by H.G.Wells Chapter 17 Part Two Doctor Kemp's Visitor

The Invisible Man

by H.G.Wells

Chapter 17

Part Two

Doctor Kemp's Visitor

 

"Griffin?" said Kemp.

"Griffin," answered the Voice. A younger student than you were,

almost an albino, six feet high, and broad, with a pink and white

face and red eyes, who won the medal for chemistry."

"I am confused," said Kemp. "My brain is rioting. What has this to

do with Griffin?"

"I _am_ Griffin."

Kemp thought. "It's horrible," he said. "But what devilry must

happen to make a man invisible?"

"It's no devilry. It's a process, sane and intelligible enough--"

"It's horrible!" said Kemp. "How on earth--?"

"It's horrible enough. But I'm wounded and in pain, and tired ...

Great God! Kemp, you are a man. Take it steady. Give me some food

and drink, and let me sit down here."

Kemp stared at the bandage as it moved across the room, then saw a

basket chair dragged across the floor and come to rest near the bed.

It creaked, and the seat was depressed the quarter of an inch or so.

He rubbed his eyes and felt his neck again. "This beats ghosts," he

said, and laughed stupidly.

"That's better. Thank Heaven, you're getting sensible!"

"Or silly," said Kemp, and knuckled his eyes.

"Give me some whiskey. I'm near dead."

"It didn't feel so. Where are you? If I get up shall I run into you?

_There_! all right. Whiskey? Here. Where shall I give it to you?"

The chair creaked and Kemp felt the glass drawn away from him. He

let go by an effort; his instinct was all against it. It came to

rest poised twenty inches above the front edge of the seat of the

chair. He stared at it in infinite perplexity. "This is--this

must be--hypnotism. You have suggested you are invisible."

"Nonsense," said the Voice.

"It's frantic."

"Listen to me."

"I demonstrated conclusively this morning," began Kemp, "that

invisibility--"

"Never mind what you've demonstrated!--I'm starving," said the

Voice, "and the night is chilly to a man without clothes."

"Food?" said Kemp.

The tumbler of whiskey tilted itself. "Yes," said the Invisible Man

rapping it down. "Have you a dressing-gown?"

Kemp made some exclamation in an undertone. He walked to a wardrobe

and produced a robe of dingy scarlet. "This do?" he asked. It was

taken from him. It hung limp for a moment in mid-air, fluttered

weirdly, stood full and decorous buttoning itself, and sat down in

his chair. "Drawers, socks, slippers would be a comfort," said the

Unseen, curtly. "And food."

"Anything. But this is the insanest thing I ever was in, in my

life!"

He turned out his drawers for the articles, and then went downstairs

to ransack his larder. He came back with some cold cutlets and

bread, pulled up a light table, and placed them before his guest.

"Never mind knives," said his visitor, and a cutlet hung in mid-air,

with a sound of gnawing.

"Invisible!" said Kemp, and sat down on a bedroom chair.

"I always like to get something about me before I eat," said the

Invisible Man, with a full mouth, eating greedily. "Queer fancy!"

"I suppose that wrist is all right," said Kemp.

"Trust me," said the Invisible Man.

"Of all the strange and wonderful--"

"Exactly. But it's odd I should blunder into _your_ house to get my

bandaging. My first stroke of luck! Anyhow I meant to sleep in this

house to-night. You must stand that! It's a filthy nuisance, my

blood showing, isn't it? Quite a clot over there. Gets visible as

it coagulates, I see. It's only the living tissue I've changed, and

only for as long as I'm alive.... I've been in the house three hours."

"But how's it done?" began Kemp, in a tone of exasperation.

"Confound it! The whole business--it's unreasonable from

beginning to end."

"Quite reasonable," said the Invisible Man. "Perfectly reasonable."

He reached over and secured the whiskey bottle. Kemp stared at the

devouring dressing gown. A ray of candle-light penetrating a torn

patch in the right shoulder, made a triangle of light under the

left ribs. "What were the shots?" he asked. "How did the shooting

begin?"

"There was a real fool of a man--a sort of confederate of

mine--curse him!--who tried to steal my money. _Has_ done so."

"Is _he_ invisible too?"

"No."

"Well?"

"Can't I have some more to eat before I tell you all that? I'm

hungry--in pain. And you want me to tell stories!"

Kemp got up. "_You_ didn't do any shooting?" he asked.

"Not me," said his visitor. "Some fool I'd never seen fired at

random. A lot of them got scared. They all got scared at me. Curse

them!--I say--I want more to eat than this, Kemp."

"I'll see what there is to eat downstairs," said Kemp. "Not much,

I'm afraid."

After he had done eating, and he made a heavy meal, the Invisible

Man demanded a cigar. He bit the end savagely before Kemp could

find a knife, and cursed when the outer leaf loosened. It was

strange to see him smoking; his mouth, and throat, pharynx and

nares, became visible as a sort of whirling smoke cast.

"This blessed gift of smoking!" he said, and puffed vigorously.

"I'm lucky to have fallen upon you, Kemp. You must help me. Fancy

tumbling on you just now! I'm in a devilish scrape--I've been mad,

I think. The things I have been through! But we will do things yet.

Let me tell you--"

He helped himself to more whiskey and soda. Kemp got up, looked

about him, and fetched a glass from his spare room. "It's wild--but

I suppose I may drink."

"You haven't changed much, Kemp, these dozen years. You fair men

don't. Cool and methodical--after the first collapse. I must tell

you. We will work together!"

"But how was it all done?" said Kemp, "and how did you get like

this?"

"For God's sake, let me smoke in peace for a little while! And then

I will begin to tell you."

But the story was not told that night. The Invisible Man's wrist

was growing painful; he was feverish, exhausted, and his mind came

round to brood upon his chase down the hill and the struggle about

the inn. He spoke in fragments of Marvel, he smoked faster, his

voice grew angry. Kemp tried to gather what he could.

"He was afraid of me, I could see that he was afraid of me," said

the Invisible Man many times over. "He meant to give me the slip--he

was always casting about! What a fool I was!

"The cur!

"I should have killed him!"

"Where did you get the money?" asked Kemp, abruptly.

The Invisible Man was silent for a space. "I can't tell you

to-night," he said.

He groaned suddenly and leant forward, supporting his invisible

head on invisible hands. "Kemp," he said, "I've had no sleep for

near three days, except a couple of dozes of an hour or so. I

must sleep soon."

"Well, have my room--have this room."

"But how can I sleep? If I sleep--he will get away. Ugh! What

does it matter?"

"What's the shot wound?" asked Kemp, abruptly.

"Nothing--scratch and blood. Oh, God! How I want sleep!"

"Why not?"

The Invisible Man appeared to be regarding Kemp. "Because I've a

particular objection to being caught by my fellow-men," he said

slowly.

Kemp started.

"Fool that I am!" said the Invisible Man, striking the table

smartly. "I've put the idea into your head."