The Man Who Was Running

In the early evening time 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, glass slips, minute instruments, some cultures, and scattered bottles of reagents. Dr. Kemp’s solar lamp was lit, albeit the sky was still bright with the sunset light, and his blinds were up because there was no offence of peering outsiders to require them pulled down. Dr. Kemp was a tall and slender young man, with flaxen hair and a moustache almost white, and the work he was upon would earn him, he hoped, the fellowship of the Royal Society, so highly did he think of it.

Early 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 facing north, west, and south. Its bookshelves were filled with books and scientific publications, and it had a broad writing table. Under the north window were a microscope, glass slides, tiny instruments, some cultures, and scattered bottles of reagents. Dr. Kemp’s solar lamp was lit, although the sky was still bright with sunset light. His blinds were up because there were no nosy outsiders to make him pull them down. Dr. Kemp was a tall, slender young man with flaxen hair and an almost white moustache. He thought so highly of his work that he hoped it would earn him a fellowship in the Royal Society.

And his eye, presently wandering from his work, caught the sunset blazing at the back of the hill that is over against his own. For a minute perhaps he sat, pen in mouth, admiring the rich golden colour above the crest, and then his attention was attracted by the little figure of a man, inky black, running over the hill-brow towards him. He was a shortish little man, and he wore a high hat, and he was running so fast that his legs verily twinkled.

His eyes wandered from his work and caught the sunset blazing behind the hill opposite his own. For perhaps a minute, he sat with his pen in his mouth, admiring the rich golden color above the crest. Then a small figure caught his attention. It was a man, black as ink, running toward him over the hilltop. The man was rather short and wore a tall hat. He was running so fast that his legs seemed to twinkle.

“Another of those fools,” said Dr. Kemp. “Like that ass who ran into me this morning round a corner, with the ‘’Visible Man a-coming, sir!’ I can’t imagine what possesses people. One might think we were in the thirteenth century.”

“Another of those fools,” said Dr. Kemp. “Like that idiot who ran into me around a corner this morning, shouting, ‘Invisible Man coming, sir!’ I can’t imagine what gets into people. You’d think we were in the thirteenth century.”

He got up, went to the window, and stared at the dusky hillside, and the dark little figure tearing down it. “He seems in a confounded hurry,” said Dr. Kemp, “but he doesn’t seem to be getting on. If his pockets were full of lead, he couldn’t run heavier.”

He got up and went to the window. He stared at the dim hillside and the small, dark figure racing down it. “He seems to be in a terrible hurry,” said Dr. Kemp, “but he doesn’t seem to be getting far. He couldn’t run more heavily if his pockets were full of lead.”

“Spurted, sir,” said Dr. Kemp.

“Spurted, sir,” said Dr. Kemp.

In another moment the higher of the villas that had clambered up the hill from Burdock had occulted the running figure. He was visible again for a moment, and again, and then again, three times between the three detached houses that came next, and then the terrace hid him.

A moment later, the villas higher up the hill from Burdock hid the running figure. He appeared again three times, in the gaps between the next three detached houses. Then the terrace hid him.

“Asses!” said Dr. Kemp, swinging round on his heel and walking back to his writing-table.

“Idiots!” said Dr. Kemp. He turned on his heel and walked back to his desk.

But those who saw the fugitive nearer, and perceived the abject terror on his perspiring face, being themselves in the open roadway, did not share in the doctor’s contempt. By the man pounded, and as he ran he chinked like a well-filled purse that is tossed to and fro. He looked neither to the right nor the left, but his dilated eyes stared straight downhill to where the lamps were being lit, and the people were crowded in the street. And his ill-shaped mouth fell apart, and a glairy foam lay on his lips, and his breath came hoarse and noisy. All he passed stopped and began staring up the road and down, and interrogating one another with an inkling of discomfort for the reason of his haste.

But those who saw the fleeing man up close could see the utter terror on his sweaty face. They were out in the road themselves, and did not share the doctor’s contempt. The man pounded past them, jingling as he ran like a purse full of coins tossed back and forth. He looked neither right nor left. His wide eyes stared straight downhill, where the lamps were being lit and people crowded the street. His misshapen mouth hung open, and shiny foam lay on his lips. His breathing was harsh and noisy. Everyone he passed stopped and stared up and down the road. They asked one another why he was in such a hurry, feeling a little uneasy.

And then presently, far up the hill, a dog playing in the road yelped and ran under a gate, and as they still wondered something—a wind—a pad, pad, pad,—a sound like a panting breathing, rushed by.

Soon, far up the hill, a dog playing in the road yelped and ran under a gate. As they still wondered, something rushed past. It was like a wind, a pad, pad, pad, and the sound of panting breath.

People screamed. People sprang off the pavement: It passed in shouts, it passed by instinct down the hill. They were shouting in the street before Marvel was halfway there. They were bolting into houses and slamming the doors behind them, with the news. He heard it and made one last desperate spurt. Fear came striding by, rushed ahead of him, and in a moment had seized the town.

People screamed and jumped off the sidewalk. The alarm spread down the hill in shouts and by instinct. People were shouting in the street before Marvel was halfway there. They ran into houses, slamming the doors behind them as they brought the news. He heard the shouting and made one last desperate dash. Fear strode past him, rushed ahead, and seized the town in a moment.

“The Invisible Man is coming! The Invisible Man!”

“The Invisible Man is coming! The Invisible Man!”