The Hunter Hunted

Mr. Heelas, Mr. Kemp’s nearest neighbour among the villa holders, was asleep in his summer house when the siege of Kemp’s house began. Mr. Heelas was one of the sturdy minority who refused to believe “in all this nonsense” about an Invisible Man. His wife, however, as he was subsequently to be reminded, did. He insisted upon walking about his garden just as if nothing was the matter, and he went to sleep in the afternoon in accordance with the custom of years. He slept through the smashing of the windows, and then woke up suddenly with a curious persuasion of something wrong. He looked across at Kemp’s house, rubbed his eyes and looked again. Then he put his feet to the ground, and sat listening. He said he was damned, but still the strange thing was visible. The house looked as though it had been deserted for weeks—after a violent riot. Every window was broken, and every window, save those of the belvedere study, was blinded by the internal shutters.

Mr. Heelas, Mr. Kemp’s nearest neighbor among the villa owners, was asleep in his summerhouse when the siege of Kemp’s house began. Mr. Heelas was one of the determined minority who refused to believe “in all this nonsense” about an Invisible Man. His wife, however, did believe it, as he would later be reminded. He insisted on walking around his garden as if nothing were wrong. And, as he had for years, he went to sleep in the afternoon. He slept through the smashing of the windows, then woke suddenly with a strange feeling that something was wrong. He looked across at Kemp’s house, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Then he put his feet on the ground and sat listening. He said he was damned, but the strange sight was still there. The house looked as if it had been deserted for weeks after a violent riot. Every window was broken, and every window except those of the belvedere study was covered by its inside shutters.

“I could have sworn it was all right”—he looked at his watch—“twenty minutes ago.”

“I could have sworn it was all right.” He looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes ago.”

He became aware of a measured concussion and the clash of glass, far away in the distance. And then, as he sat open-mouthed, came a still more wonderful thing. The shutters of the drawing-room window were flung open violently, and the housemaid in her outdoor hat and garments, appeared struggling in a frantic manner to throw up the sash. Suddenly a man appeared beside her, helping her—Dr. Kemp! In another moment the window was open, and the housemaid was struggling out; she pitched forward and vanished among the shrubs. Mr. Heelas stood up, exclaiming vaguely and vehemently at all these wonderful things. He saw Kemp stand on the sill, spring from the window, and reappear almost instantaneously running along a path in the shrubbery and stooping as he ran, like a man who evades observation. He vanished behind a laburnum, and appeared again clambering over a fence that abutted on the open down. In a second he had tumbled over and was running at a tremendous pace down the slope towards Mr. Heelas.

He became aware of a steady pounding and the crash of glass, far off in the distance. Then, as he sat open-mouthed, something even more amazing happened. The shutters of the drawing-room window flew open violently. The housemaid appeared, wearing her outdoor hat and clothes, frantically struggling to raise the window. Suddenly a man appeared beside her and helped her. It was Dr. Kemp! A moment later, the window was open, and the housemaid was struggling to climb out. She fell forward and vanished among the shrubs. Mr. Heelas stood up, shouting vague but forceful exclamations at all these amazing sights. He saw Kemp stand on the sill and leap from the window. Almost instantly, Kemp reappeared, running along a path through the shrubs. He crouched as he ran, like a man trying to avoid being seen. He vanished behind a laburnum tree. Then he appeared again, climbing over a fence that bordered the open hillside. A second later, he had tumbled over it and was running at tremendous speed down the slope toward Mr. Heelas.

“Lord!” cried Mr. Heelas, struck with an idea; “it’s that Invisible Man brute! It’s right, after all!”

“Good Lord!” cried Mr. Heelas, suddenly struck by an idea. “It’s that brute, the Invisible Man! It’s true after all!”

With Mr. Heelas to think things like that was to act, and his cook watching him from the top window was amazed to see him come pelting towards the house at a good nine miles an hour. There was a slamming of doors, a ringing of bells, and the voice of Mr. Heelas bellowing like a bull. “Shut the doors, shut the windows, shut everything!—the Invisible Man is coming!” Instantly the house was full of screams and directions, and scurrying feet. He ran himself to shut the French windows that opened on the veranda; as he did so Kemp’s head and shoulders and knee appeared over the edge of the garden fence. In another moment Kemp had ploughed through the asparagus, and was running across the tennis lawn to the house.

For Mr. Heelas, thinking such things meant acting on them. His cook was watching from an upstairs window and was amazed to see him racing toward the house at a good nine miles an hour. Doors slammed, bells rang, and Mr. Heelas bellowed like a bull. “Shut the doors, shut the windows, shut everything! The Invisible Man is coming!” At once, the house filled with screams, shouted orders, and the sound of scurrying feet. He ran to shut the French windows opening onto the veranda. As he did, Kemp’s head, shoulders, and knee appeared over the edge of the garden fence. A moment later, Kemp had plowed through the asparagus and was running across the tennis lawn toward the house.

“You can’t come in,” said Mr. Heelas, shutting the bolts. “I’m very sorry if he’s after you, but you can’t come in!”

“You can’t come in,” said Mr. Heelas, locking the bolts. “I’m very sorry if he’s after you, but you can’t come in!”

Kemp appeared with a face of terror close to the glass, rapping and then shaking frantically at the French window. Then, seeing his efforts were useless, he ran along the veranda, vaulted the end, and went to hammer at the side door. Then he ran round by the side gate to the front of the house, and so into the hill-road. And Mr. Heelas staring from his window—a face of horror—had scarcely witnessed Kemp vanish, ere the asparagus was being trampled this way and that by feet unseen. At that Mr. Heelas fled precipitately upstairs, and the rest of the chase is beyond his purview. But as he passed the staircase window, he heard the side gate slam.

Kemp appeared at the glass, his face terrified. He knocked on the French window, then shook it frantically. Seeing that it was no use, he ran along the veranda, vaulted over the end, and hammered at the side door. Then he ran around through the side gate to the front of the house and into the hill road. Mr. Heelas stared from his window, his face filled with horror. Kemp had barely vanished when unseen feet began trampling the asparagus in every direction. At that, Mr. Heelas fled upstairs, and he saw no more of the chase. But as he passed the staircase window, he heard the side gate slam.

Emerging into the hill-road, Kemp naturally took the downward direction, and so it was he came to run in his own person the very race he had watched with such a critical eye from the belvedere study only four days ago. He ran it well, for a man out of training, and though his face was white and wet, his wits were cool to the last. He ran with wide strides, and wherever a patch of rough ground intervened, wherever there came a patch of raw flints, or a bit of broken glass shone dazzling, he crossed it and left the bare invisible feet that followed to take what line they would.

When Kemp came out onto the hill road, he naturally headed downhill. So he found himself running the very race he had watched so critically from his tower study only four days earlier. He ran well for a man out of training. Although his face was pale and wet, he kept his wits about him to the end. He ran with long strides. Whenever he came to rough ground, a patch of sharp flints, or a dazzling piece of broken glass, he crossed it. The bare, invisible feet following him would have to find their own way.

For the first time in his life Kemp discovered that the hill-road was indescribably vast and desolate, and that the beginnings of the town far below at the hill foot were strangely remote. Never had there been a slower or more painful method of progression than running. All the gaunt villas, sleeping in the afternoon sun, looked locked and barred; no doubt they were locked and barred—by his own orders. But at any rate they might have kept a lookout for an eventuality like this! The town was rising up now, the sea had dropped out of sight behind it, and people down below were stirring. A tram was just arriving at the hill foot. Beyond that was the police station. Was that footsteps he heard behind him? Spurt.

For the first time in his life, Kemp realized how impossibly vast and empty the hill road was. The edge of town, far below at the foot of the hill, seemed strangely distant. Running had never seemed so slow or painful. All the stark villas, quiet in the afternoon sun, looked locked and barred. No doubt they were, on his own orders. But surely the people inside could have kept watch in case something like this happened! The town was rising into view now, and the sea had disappeared behind it. People below were beginning to move. A tram was just arriving at the foot of the hill. Beyond it was the police station. Were those footsteps he heard behind him? He sprinted.

The people below were staring at him, one or two were running, and his breath was beginning to saw in his throat. The tram was quite near now, and the “Jolly Cricketers” was noisily barring its doors. Beyond the tram were posts and heaps of gravel—the drainage works. He had a transitory idea of jumping into the tram and slamming the doors, and then he resolved to go for the police station. In another moment he had passed the door of the “Jolly Cricketers,” and was in the blistering fag end of the street, with human beings about him. The tram driver and his helper—arrested by the sight of his furious haste—stood staring with the tram horses unhitched. Further on the astonished features of navvies appeared above the mounds of gravel.

The people below were staring at him. One or two were running, and his breath was beginning to rasp in his throat. The tram was very close now, and the “Jolly Cricketers” was noisily barring its doors. Beyond the tram were posts and heaps of gravel from the drainage works. For a moment, he thought of jumping into the tram and slamming the doors. Then he decided to head for the police station. A moment later, he had passed the door of the “Jolly Cricketers.” He was now among people in the blisteringly hot end of the street. The tram driver and his helper had stopped at the sight of his furious rush. They stood staring, with the tram horses unhitched. Farther on, the astonished faces of laborers appeared above the mounds of gravel.

His pace broke a little, and then he heard the swift pad of his pursuer, and leapt forward again. “The Invisible Man!” he cried to the navvies, with a vague indicative gesture, and by an inspiration leapt the excavation and placed a burly group between him and the chase. Then abandoning the idea of the police station he turned into a little side street, rushed by a greengrocer’s cart, hesitated for the tenth of a second at the door of a sweetstuff shop, and then made for the mouth of an alley that ran back into the main Hill Street again. Two or three little children were playing here, and shrieked and scattered at his apparition, and forthwith doors and windows opened and excited mothers revealed their hearts. Out he shot into Hill Street again, three hundred yards from the tram-line end, and immediately he became aware of a tumultuous vociferation and running people.

He slowed a little, then heard the quick footsteps of his pursuer and leapt forward again. “The Invisible Man!” he cried to the laborers, pointing vaguely. Then an idea struck him. He jumped over the excavation, putting a group of burly workers between himself and his pursuer. He gave up the idea of going to the police station and turned into a little side street. He rushed past a greengrocer’s cart and hesitated for a tenth of a second outside a candy shop. Then he headed for the entrance to an alley that led back to the main Hill Street. Two or three small children were playing there. They shrieked and scattered when he appeared. Doors and windows immediately opened, and the frightened mothers showed their feelings. He shot back out into Hill Street, three hundred yards from the end of the tram line. At once, he noticed loud shouting and people running.

He glanced up the street towards the hill. Hardly a dozen yards off ran a huge navvy, cursing in fragments and slashing viciously with a spade, and hard behind him came the tram conductor with his fists clenched. Up the street others followed these two, striking and shouting. Down towards the town, men and women were running, and he noticed clearly one man coming out of a shop-door with a stick in his hand. “Spread out! Spread out!” cried some one. Kemp suddenly grasped the altered condition of the chase. He stopped, and looked round, panting. “He’s close here!” he cried. “Form a line across—”

He glanced up the street toward the hill. A huge laborer was running less than a dozen yards away, cursing in bursts and swinging a spade viciously. The tram conductor followed close behind him, his fists clenched. Others followed the two men up the street, striking and shouting. Men and women were running down toward the town. He noticed one man clearly as he came out of a shop doorway with a stick in his hand. “Spread out! Spread out!” someone cried. Kemp suddenly understood how the chase had changed. He stopped and looked around, panting. “He’s close here!” he cried. “Form a line across...”

He was hit hard under the ear, and went reeling, trying to face round towards his unseen antagonist. He just managed to keep his feet, and he struck a vain counter in the air. Then he was hit again under the jaw, and sprawled headlong on the ground. In another moment a knee compressed his diaphragm, and a couple of eager hands gripped his throat, but the grip of one was weaker than the other; he grasped the wrists, heard a cry of pain from his assailant, and then the spade of the navvy came whirling through the air above him, and struck something with a dull thud. He felt a drop of moisture on his face. The grip at his throat suddenly relaxed, and with a convulsive effort, Kemp loosed himself, grasped a limp shoulder, and rolled uppermost. He gripped the unseen elbows near the ground. “I’ve got him!” screamed Kemp. “Help! Help—hold! He’s down! Hold his feet!”

He was hit hard below the ear and staggered, trying to turn toward his unseen attacker. He barely managed to stay on his feet and struck back, hitting nothing but air. Then he was hit again under the jaw and fell headlong to the ground. A moment later, a knee pressed into his diaphragm, and two eager hands gripped his throat. But one hand’s grip was weaker than the other. He grabbed the wrists and heard his attacker cry out in pain. Then the laborer’s spade came swinging through the air above him and struck something with a dull thud. He felt a drop of moisture on his face. The grip on his throat suddenly loosened. With a desperate effort, Kemp pulled himself free, grabbed a limp shoulder, and rolled on top. He pinned the unseen elbows close to the ground. “I’ve got him!” Kemp screamed. “Help! Help! Hold him! He’s down! Hold his feet!”

In another second there was a simultaneous rush upon the struggle, and a stranger coming into the road suddenly might have thought an exceptionally savage game of Rugby football was in progress. And there was no shouting after Kemp’s cry—only a sound of blows and feet and heavy breathing.

A second later, everyone rushed into the struggle at once. A stranger coming into the road might have thought an exceptionally savage game of rugby was underway. After Kemp’s cry, there was no shouting, only the sound of blows, feet, and heavy breathing.

Then came a mighty effort, and the Invisible Man threw off a couple of his antagonists and rose to his knees. Kemp clung to him in front like a hound to a stag, and a dozen hands gripped, clutched, and tore at the Unseen. The tram conductor suddenly got the neck and shoulders and lugged him back.

Then, with a mighty effort, the Invisible Man threw off two of his attackers and rose to his knees. Kemp clung to him from the front like a hound to a stag. A dozen hands gripped, clutched, and tore at the Unseen. The tram conductor suddenly grabbed him by the neck and shoulders and dragged him back.

Down went the heap of struggling men again and rolled over. There was, I am afraid, some savage kicking. Then suddenly a wild scream of “Mercy! Mercy!” that died down swiftly to a sound like choking.

The heap of struggling men fell again and rolled over. I’m afraid there was some savage kicking. Then suddenly someone screamed, “Mercy! Mercy!” The scream quickly faded into a choking sound.

“Get back, you fools!” cried the muffled voice of Kemp, and there was a vigorous shoving back of stalwart forms. “He’s hurt, I tell you. Stand back!”

“Get back, you fools!” Kemp’s muffled voice cried, and strong men were pushed forcefully back. “He’s hurt, I tell you. Stand back!”

There was a brief struggle to clear a space, and then the circle of eager faces saw the doctor kneeling, as it seemed, fifteen inches in the air, and holding invisible arms to the ground. Behind him a constable gripped invisible ankles.

There was a brief struggle to clear a space. Then the people gathered around saw the doctor apparently kneeling fifteen inches in the air. He was holding invisible arms to the ground. Behind him, a police officer gripped invisible ankles.

“Don’t you leave go of en,” cried the big navvy, holding a blood-stained spade; “he’s shamming.”

“Don’t you leave go of him,” cried the big laborer, holding a bloodstained shovel. “He’s faking it.”

“He’s not shamming,” said the doctor, cautiously raising his knee; “and I’ll hold him.” His face was bruised and already going red; he spoke thickly because of a bleeding lip. He released one hand and seemed to be feeling at the face. “The mouth’s all wet,” he said. And then, “Good God!”

“He’s not pretending,” said the doctor, carefully raising his knee. “And I’ll hold him.” His face was bruised and already turning red. He spoke indistinctly because his lip was bleeding. He let go with one hand and seemed to feel the face. “The mouth’s all wet,” he said. Then he said, “Good God!”

He stood up abruptly and then knelt down on the ground by the side of the thing unseen. There was a pushing and shuffling, a sound of heavy feet as fresh people turned up to increase the pressure of the crowd. People now were coming out of the houses. The doors of the “Jolly Cricketers” stood suddenly wide open. Very little was said.

He stood up suddenly, then knelt on the ground beside the unseen thing. People pushed and shuffled, and heavy feet sounded as more people arrived, adding to the pressure of the crowd. People were now coming out of the houses. The doors of the “Jolly Cricketers” suddenly stood wide open. Very little was said.

Kemp felt about, his hand seeming to pass through empty air. “He’s not breathing,” he said, and then, “I can’t feel his heart. His side—ugh!”

Kemp felt around, his hand seeming to pass through empty air. “He’s not breathing,” he said. Then he added, “I can’t feel his heart. His side, ugh!”

Suddenly an old woman, peering under the arm of the big navvy, screamed sharply. “Looky there!” she said, and thrust out a wrinkled finger.

Suddenly, an old woman peering under the big laborer's arm let out a sharp scream. “Look there!” she said, pointing a wrinkled finger.

And looking where she pointed, everyone saw, faint and transparent as though it was made of glass, so that veins and arteries and bones and nerves could be distinguished, the outline of a hand, a hand limp and prone. It grew clouded and opaque even as they stared.

Everyone looked where she pointed and saw the faint outline of a hand. It was limp and lying flat, transparent as glass, so they could make out its veins, arteries, bones, and nerves. As they stared, the hand grew cloudy and opaque.

“Hullo!” cried the constable. “Here’s his feet a-showing!”

“Hello!” cried the constable. “His feet are showing!”

And so, slowly, beginning at his hands and feet and creeping along his limbs to the vital centres of his body, that strange change continued. It was like the slow spreading of a poison. First came the little white nerves, a hazy grey sketch of a limb, then the glassy bones and intricate arteries, then the flesh and skin, first a faint fogginess, and then growing rapidly dense and opaque. Presently they could see his crushed chest and his shoulders, and the dim outline of his drawn and battered features.

And so the strange change continued slowly. It began at his hands and feet and crept along his limbs toward the vital centers of his body. It was like the slow spread of poison. First came the small white nerves, forming a hazy gray outline of each limb. Then came the glassy bones and intricate arteries. Next came the flesh and skin, first as a faint fog that quickly grew dense and opaque. Soon they could see his crushed chest and shoulders, and the dim outline of his strained and battered face.

When at last the crowd made way for Kemp to stand erect, there lay, naked and pitiful on the ground, the bruised and broken body of a young man about thirty. His hair and brow were white—not grey with age, but white with the whiteness of albinism—and his eyes were like garnets. His hands were clenched, his eyes wide open, and his expression was one of anger and dismay.

At last, the crowd made room for Kemp to stand up straight. On the ground lay the bruised and broken body of a young man about thirty, naked and pitiful. His hair and forehead were white, not gray with age, but white from albinism. His eyes were like garnets. His hands were clenched, his eyes wide open, and his face showed anger and dismay.

“Cover his face!” said a man. “For Gawd’s sake, cover that face!” and three little children, pushing forward through the crowd, were suddenly twisted round and sent packing off again.

“Cover his face!” said a man. “For God’s sake, cover that face!” Three little children pushed forward through the crowd, but were suddenly turned around and sent away again.

Someone brought a sheet from the “Jolly Cricketers,” and having covered him, they carried him into that house. And there it was, on a shabby bed in a tawdry, ill-lighted bedroom, surrounded by a crowd of ignorant and excited people, broken and wounded, betrayed and unpitied, that Griffin, the first of all men to make himself invisible, Griffin, the most gifted physicist the world has ever seen, ended in infinite disaster his strange and terrible career.

Someone brought a sheet from the “Jolly Cricketers.” They covered him with it and carried him into the house. There, Griffin lay on a shabby bed in a cheap, dimly lit bedroom. A crowd of ignorant, excited people surrounded him. He was broken and wounded, betrayed and without anyone’s pity. Griffin was the first man to make himself invisible, and the most gifted physicist the world has ever seen. There, his strange and terrible career ended in utter disaster.