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Chapter 5
The Burglary at the Vicarage

The burglary at the vicarage occurred in the small hours of Whit Monday. Mrs. Bunting woke up suddenly before the dawn, with the strong impression that the door of their bedroom had opened and closed. She did not wake up her husband at first, but sat up in bed listening. She distinctly heard somebody coming out of the room and walking towards the staircase. As soon as she felt sure of this, she woke up Mr. Bunting as quietly as possible. He did not strike a light but went out on the landing to listen. He heard quite distinctly some steps at his study desk downstairs, and then a violent sneeze.

At that he returned to his bedroom, armed himself with a poker, and descended the staircase as noiselessly as possible.

It was about four, and there was a faint light in the hall, but the study was dark. Everything was still except the creaking of the stairs under Mr. Bunting's tread, and the slight movements in the study. Then something snapped, the drawer was opened, and there was a rustle of papers. Then a match was struck and the study was flooded with yellow light. Mr. Bunting could not see the robber. He stood there in the hall and didn't know what to do, and Mrs. Bunting crept slowly downstairs.

They heard the clink of money. At that sound Mr. Bunting rushed into the room with the poker. “Surrender!” cried Mr. Bunting, fiercely, and then stopped amazed-the room was perfectly empty.

Yet they were certain they had heard somebody moving in the room. For half a minute, perhaps, they stood gaping then went across the room and looked behind the window curtains, under the desk and in the wastepaper basket. After that they came to a stop and stood gaping at each other again.

“The money's gone!” said Mrs. Bunting.

“Of all the strange incidents-”

There was a violent sneeze in the passage. They rushed out, and as they did so the kitchen door slammed.

As Mr. Bunting opened it he was certain that nobody went out. The door opened, stood open for a moment, and then closed with a slam.

The place was empty. They examined the kitchen thoroughly, and at last went down into the cellar. There was not a soul in the house.

Glossary

burglary ['bɜ:glərɪ] – сущ. незаконное проникновение в помещение (с преступными целями); квартирная кража со взломом

Whit Monday – Духов день

vicarage ['vɪk(ə)rɪʤ] – сущ. дом священника

poker ['pəukə] – сущ. кочерга

Chapter 6
The Furniture That Went Mad

It happened in the small hours of Whit Monday. Mr. Hall and Mrs. Hall both rose and went noiselessly down into the cellar. Their business had something to do with their beer. Hardly had they entered the cellar when Mrs. Hall found she had forgotten to bring down a bottle of lemonade from their room. As she was the expert in this matter, Hall immediately went upstairs for it.

On the landing he was surprised to see that the stranger's door was ajar.

He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again; then pushed the door wide open and entered.

It was as he expected. The room was empty. And what was strange, the guest's clothes and his bandages were scattered around.

As Hall stood there he heard his wife's voice coming out of the cellar and hurried down to her. He told Mrs. Hall that their guest wasn't in his room.

At first Mrs. Hall did not understand, and as soon as she did she resolved to see the empty room for herself. Hall, still holding the bottle, went first. As they came up the cellar steps they both heard the front door open and shut, but they didn't say a word to each other about it. Someone sneezed on the staircase. Hall thought that he had heard her sneeze and she was under the impression that it was Hall. “How curious!” she thought.

Suddenly the most extraordinary thing happened. The bedclothes gathered themselves together and leapt up suddenly into the air. It was exactly as if a hand had clutched them and flung aside. Immediately after, the stranger's hat dashed straight at Mrs. Hall's face. Then came the chair, flinging the stranger's coat and trousers aside, turned itself up with its four legs at Mrs. Hall. She screamed and turned, and then the chair legs came gently but firmly against her back and pushed her and Hall out of the room. The door slammed violently and was locked. The chair and bed seemed to be dancing for a moment, and then abruptly everything was still.

Mrs. Hall almost fainted in Mr. Hall's arms on the landing.

“Lock him out,” said Mrs. Hall. “With his goggles and bandaged head, and never going to church on Sunday. And all the bottles… He's put the spirits into the furniture… My good old furniture! It was in that very chair my poor dear mother used to sit when I was a little girl. To think it should rise up against me now!”

And suddenly the door of the room upstairs opened, and as they looked up in amazement, they saw the muffled figure of the stranger descending the stairs. He came down stiffly and slowly, staring all the time, then stopped.

He entered the parlour, and suddenly, swiftly, slammed the door in their faces.

The Halls stared at one another.

At last Mr. Hall knocked, opened the door and said, “Excuse me-”

“Go to the devil!” answered the stranger in an angry voice, and “Shut that door after you.”

Glossary

leap [li:p] (leapt, leapt) – гл. прыгать, скакать; перепрыгивать, перескакивать

clutch [klʌʧ] – гл. схватить, зажать

dash [dæʃ] – гл. бросаться, мчаться, нестись

lockout [lɒk 'aʊt] – гл. запирать, блокировать

spirit ['spɪrɪt] – сущ. дух, привидение

stiffly ['stɪflɪ] – нареч. сухо, чопорно, натянуто

swiftly ['swɪftlɪ] – нареч. быстро, без промедления, поспешно

Chapter 7
The Unveiling of the Stranger

The stranger went into the little parlour of the “Coach and Horses” about half past five in the morning, and there he remained until noon, the blinds down, the door shut, and none venturing near him.

Thrice he rang his bell, but no one answered. Presently came a rumour of the burglary at the vicarage, and two and two were put together. No one ventured upstairs. How the stranger occupied himself is unknown. Now and then he would stride back and forth across the room.

About noon he suddenly opened his parlour door and stood glaring at the people in the bar. “Mrs. Hall,” he said. Somebody went and called for Mrs. Hall.

Mrs. Hall appeared after an interval, holding a little tray with an unsettled bill upon it. “Do you want your bill, sir?” she said.

“Why wasn't my breakfast laid? Why haven't you prepared my meals and answered my bell? Do you think I live without eating?”

“Why isn't my bill paid?” said Mrs. Hall. “That's what I want to know.”

“I told you three days ago I was awaiting a money order-”

“You can't grumble if your breakfast waits a bit, if my bill's been waiting these five days, can you?”

The stranger swore briefly but vividly.

“And I'd thank you kindly, sir, if you'd keep your swearing to yourself, sir,” said Mrs. Hall.

“Look here, my good woman-” began the stranger. “Don't 'good woman' me,” said Mrs. Hall, “And before I take any bills or get any breakfasts, I want to know what you've been doing with my chair upstairs, and why your room was empty, and how you got in again. And I want to know-”

Suddenly the stranger raised his gloved hands, stamped his foot and said, “Stop!” with such extraordinary violence that he silenced her instantly.

“You don't understand,” he said, “who I am or what I am. I'll show you. By Heaven! I'll show you.” Then he put his open palm over his face and withdrew it. The centre of his face became a black cavity. “Here,” he said. He stepped forward and handed Mrs. Hall something which she accepted automatically. Then, when she saw what it was, she screamed loudly and dropped it – the nose, it was the stranger's pink and shining nose!

Then he removed his goggles, and everyone in the bar gasped. He took off his hat, and with a violent gesture tore at his whiskers and bandages. “Oh, my God!” said someone. It was worse than anything.

The bandages and false hair flew across the passage into the bar. Everyone tumbled on everyone else down the steps. They saw a man's figure up to the coat collar, and then-nothing, no visible thing at all!

The people in the village heard shouts and shrieks and began running towards the inn. “What's he been doing, then?”

In a while there was a little procession that was marching very resolutely towards the house; first Mr. Hall, very red and determined, then Mr. Bobby Jaffers, the village constable, and then the wary Mr. Wadgers. They were armed with a warrant.

Mr. Hall marched up the steps straight to the door of the parlour and flung it open. “Constable,” he said, “do your duty.”

They saw in the dim light the headless figure facing them, with a piece of bread in one gloved hand and a chunk of cheese in the other.

“That's him!” said Hall.

“What the devil's this?” asked the stranger.

“Duty's duty-” said Mr. Jaffers.

“Keep off!” said the figure, starting back.

Off came the stranger's left glove and slapped Jaffers' face.

Mr. Hall, trying to act on instructions, received a kick in the ribs. At the same moment three or four bottles fell down from the wardrobe and a strong smell filled the room.

“I'll surrender,” cried the stranger, a headless and handless figure.

Jaffers produced a pair of handcuffs. “Damn it! Can't use them as I can see,” he said.

“The fact is, I'm all here-head, hands, legs, and all the rest of it, but it happens I'm invisible,” said the stranger. “It's strange, perhaps, but it's not a crime.”

“Ah! that's a different matter,” said Jaffers. “No doubt you are a bit difficult to see in this light, but I got a warrant and it's all correct. What I'm after is not invisibility, – it's burglary. Somebody has broken into the house and stolen the money.”

“Stuff and nonsense!” said the Invisible Man.

“I hope so, sir; but I've got my instructions.”

“Well,” said the stranger, “I'll come. I'll come. But no handcuffs.”

“It's a regular thing,” said Jaffers.

“No handcuffs,” repeated the stranger.

“Pardon me,” said Jaffers.

Abruptly the figure sat down, and before anyone could realise what was happening, the slippers, socks, and trousers had been thrown under the table. Then he sprang up again and flung off his coat.

“Here, stop that,” said Jaffers, suddenly realising what was wrong. “Hold him!” said Jaffers, loudly. “Once he gets the things off-”

“Hold him!” cried everyone, and there was a rush at the white shirt which was now all that was visible of the stranger.

The shirt sleeve hit Hall in the face and sent him backward, and in another moment it was lifted up. Jaffers clutched at it and was struck in the mouth out of the air.

“Look out!” said everybody, hitting at nothing. “Hold him! Shut the door! Don't let him run away! Here he is!”

“I got him!” shouted Jaffers, fighting with his unseen enemy.

There were excited cries of “Hold him!” “Invisible!”

But in a while Jaffers lay quite still at the foot of the steps of the inn.