CHAPTER XXIII
IN DRURY LANE
"But you begin now to realise," said the Invisible Man, "the fulldisadvantage of my condition. I had no shelter--no covering--toget clothing was to forego all my advantage, to make myself astrange and terrible thing. I was fasting; for to eat, to fillmyself with unassimilated matter, would be to become grotesquelyvisible again."
"I never thought of that," said Kemp.
"Nor had I. And the snow had warned me of other dangers. I could notgo abroad in snow--it would settle on me and expose me. Rain, too,would make me a watery outline, a glistening surface of a man--abubble. And fog--I should be like a fainter bubble in a fog,a surface, a greasy glimmer of humanity. Moreover, as I wentabroad--in the London air--I gathered dirt about my ankles, floatingsmuts and dust upon my skin. I did not know how long it would bebefore I should become visible from that cause also. But I sawclearly it could not be for long.
"Not in London at any rate.
"I went into the slums towards Great Portland Street, and foundmyself at the end of the street in which I had lodged. I did notgo that way, because of the crowd halfway down it opposite to thestill smoking ruins of the house I had fired. My most immediateproblem was to get clothing. What to do with my face puzzled me.Then I saw in one of those little miscellaneous shops--news,sweets, toys, stationery, belated Christmas tomfoolery, and soforth--an array of masks and noses. I realised that problem wassolved. In a flash I saw my course. I turned about, no longeraimless, and went--circuitously in order to avoid the busy ways,towards the back streets north of the Strand; for I remembered,though not very distinctly where, that some theatrical costumiershad shops in that district.
"The day was cold, with a nipping wind down the northward runningstreets. I walked fast to avoid being overtaken. Every crossing wasa danger, every passenger a thing to watch alertly. One man as Iwas about to pass him at the top of Bedford Street, turned uponme abruptly and came into me, sending me into the road and almostunder the wheel of a passing hansom. The verdict of the cab-rankwas that he had had some sort of stroke. I was so unnerved by thisencounter that I went into Covent Garden Market and sat down forsome time in a quiet corner by a stall of violets, panting andtrembling. I found I had caught a fresh cold, and had to turn outafter a time lest my sneezes should attract attention.
"At last I reached the object of my quest, a dirty, fly-blown littleshop in a by-way near Drury Lane, with a window full of tinselrobes, sham jewels, wigs, slippers, dominoes and theatricalphotographs. The shop was old-fashioned and low and dark, and thehouse rose above it for four storeys, dark and dismal. I peeredthrough the window and, seeing no one within, entered. The openingof the door set a clanking bell ringing. I left it open, and walkedround a bare costume stand, into a corner behind a cheval glass. Fora minute or so no one came. Then I heard heavy feet striding acrossa room, and a man appeared down the shop.
"My plans were now perfectly definite. I proposed to make my wayinto the house, secrete myself upstairs, watch my opportunity, andwhen everything was quiet, rummage out a wig, mask, spectacles, andcostume, and go into the world, perhaps a grotesque but still acredible figure. And incidentally of course I could rob the houseof any available money.
"The man who had just entered the shop was a short, slight,hunched, beetle-browed man, with long arms and very short bandylegs. Apparently I had interrupted a meal. He stared about the shopwith an expression of expectation. This gave way to surprise, andthen to anger, as he saw the shop empty. 'Damn the boys!' he said.He went to stare up and down the street. He came in again in aminute, kicked the door to with his foot spitefully, and wentmuttering back to the house door.
"I came forward to follow him, and at the noise of my movement hestopped dead. I did so too, startled by his quickness of ear. Heslammed the house door in my face.
"I stood hesitating. Suddenly I heard his quick footsteps returning,and the door reopened. He stood looking about the shop like one whowas still not satisfied. Then, murmuring to himself, he examined theback of the counter and peered behind some fixtures. Then he stooddoubtful. He had left the house door open and I slipped into theinner room.
"It was a queer little room, poorly furnished and with a number ofbig masks in the corner. On the table was his belated breakfast,and it was a confoundedly exasperating thing for me, Kemp, to haveto sniff his coffee and stand watching while he came in and resumedhis meal. And his table manners were irritating. Three doors openedinto the little room, one going upstairs and one down, but theywere all shut. I could not get out of the room while he was there;I could scarcely move because of his alertness, and there was adraught down my back. Twice I strangled a sneeze just in time.
"The spectacular quality of my sensations was curious and novel, butfor all that I was heartily tired and angry long before he had donehis eating. But at last he made an end and putting his beggarlycrockery on the black tin tray upon which he had had his teapot, andgathering all the crumbs up on the mustard stained cloth, he tookthe whole lot of things after him. His burden prevented his shuttingthe door behind him--as he would have done; I never saw such a manfor shutting doors--and I followed him into a very dirty undergroundkitchen and scullery. I had the pleasure of seeing him begin to washup, and then, finding no good in keeping down there, and the brickfloor being cold on my feet, I returned upstairs and sat in hischair by the fire. It was burning low, and scarcely thinking, I puton a little coal. The noise of this brought him up at once, andhe stood aglare. He peered about the room and was within an aceof touching me. Even after that examination, he scarcely seemedsatisfied. He stopped in the doorway and took a final inspectionbefore he went down.
"I waited in the little parlour for an age, and at last he came upand opened the upstairs door. I just managed to get by him.
"On the staircase he stopped suddenly, so that I very nearlyblundered into him. He stood looking back right into my face andlistening. 'I could have sworn,' he said. His long hairy handpulled at his lower lip. His eye went up and down the staircase.Then he grunted and went on up again.
"His hand was on the handle of a door, and then he stopped againwith the same puzzled anger on his face. He was becoming aware ofthe faint sounds of my movements about him. The man must have haddiabolically acute hearing. He suddenly flashed into rage. 'Ifthere's anyone in this house--' he cried with an oath, and left thethreat unfinished. He put his hand in his pocket, failed to findwhat he wanted, and rushing past me went blundering noisily andpugnaciously downstairs. But I did not follow him. I sat on thehead of the staircase until his return.
"Presently he came up again, still muttering. He opened the door ofthe room, and before I could enter, slammed it in my face.
"I resolved to explore the house, and spent some time in doing soas noiselessly as possible. The house was very old and tumble-down,damp so that the paper in the attics was peeling from the walls, andrat infested. Some of the door handles were stiff and I was afraidto turn them. Several rooms I did inspect were unfurnished, andothers were littered with theatrical lumber, bought second-hand, Ijudged, from its appearance. In one room next to his I found a lotof old clothes. I began routing among these, and in my eagernessforgot again the evident sharpness of his ears. I heard a stealthyfootstep and, looking up just in time, saw him peering in at thetumbled heap and holding an old-fashioned revolver in his hand.I stood perfectly still while he stared about open-mouthed andsuspicious. 'It must have been her,' he said slowly. 'Damn her!'
"He shut the door quietly, and immediately I heard the key turn inthe lock. Then his footsteps retreated. I realised abruptly that Iwas locked in. For a minute I did not know what to do. I walkedfrom door to window and back, and stood perplexed. A gust of angercame upon me. But I decided to inspect the clothes before I didanything further, and my first attempt brought down a pile from anupper shelf. This brought him back, more sinister than ever. Thattime he actually touched me, jumped back with amazement and stoodastonished in the middle of the room.
"Presently h
e calmed a little. 'Rats,' he said in an undertone,fingers on lips. He was evidently a little scared. I edged quietlyout of the room, but a plank creaked. Then the infernal little brutestarted going all over the house, revolver in hand and locking doorafter door and pocketing the keys. When I realised what he was up toI had a fit of rage--I could hardly control myself sufficiently towatch my opportunity. By this time I knew he was alone in the house,and so I made no more ado, but knocked him on the head."
"Knocked him on the head?" exclaimed Kemp.
"Yes--stunned him--as he was going downstairs. Hit him frombehind with a stool that stood on the landing. He went downstairslike a bag of old boots."
"But--I say! The common conventions of humanity--"
"Are all very well for common people. But the point was, Kemp, thatI had to get out of that house in a disguise without his seeing me.I couldn't think of any other way of doing it. And then I gaggedhim with a Louis Quatorze vest and tied him up in a sheet."
"Tied him up in a sheet!"
"Made a sort of bag of it. It was rather a good idea to keep theidiot scared and quiet, and a devilish hard thing to get outof--head away from the string. My dear Kemp, it's no good yoursitting glaring as though I was a murderer. It had to be done. Hehad his revolver. If once he saw me he would be able to describeme--"
"But still," said Kemp, "in England--to-day. And the man was inhis own house, and you were--well, robbing."
"Robbing! Confound it! You'll call me a thief next! Surely, Kemp,you're not fool enough to dance on the old strings. Can't you seemy position?"
"And his too," said Kemp.
The Invisible Man stood up sharply. "What do you mean to say?"
Kemp's face grew a trifle hard. He was about to speak and checkedhimself. "I suppose, after all," he said with a sudden change ofmanner, "the thing had to be done. You were in a fix. But still--"
"Of course I was in a fix--an infernal fix. And he made me wildtoo--hunting me about the house, fooling about with his revolver,locking and unlocking doors. He was simply exasperating. You don'tblame me, do you? You don't blame me?"
"I never blame anyone," said Kemp. "It's quite out of fashion. Whatdid you do next?"
"I was hungry. Downstairs I found a loaf and some rank cheese--morethan sufficient to satisfy my hunger. I took some brandy andwater, and then went up past my impromptu bag--he was lying quitestill--to the room containing the old clothes. This looked outupon the street, two lace curtains brown with dirt guarding thewindow. I went and peered out through their interstices. Outsidethe day was bright--by contrast with the brown shadows of thedismal house in which I found myself, dazzlingly bright. A brisktraffic was going by, fruit carts, a hansom, a four-wheeler with apile of boxes, a fishmonger's cart. I turned with spots of colourswimming before my eyes to the shadowy fixtures behind me. Myexcitement was giving place to a clear apprehension of my positionagain. The room was full of a faint scent of benzoline, used, Isuppose, in cleaning the garments.
"I began a systematic search of the place. I should judge thehunchback had been alone in the house for some time. He was acurious person. Everything that could possibly be of service to meI collected in the clothes storeroom, and then I made a deliberateselection. I found a handbag I thought a suitable possession, andsome powder, rouge, and sticking-plaster.
"I had thought of painting and powdering my face and all thatthere was to show of me, in order to render myself visible, butthe disadvantage of this lay in the fact that I should requireturpentine and other appliances and a considerable amount of timebefore I could vanish again. Finally I chose a mask of the bettertype, slightly grotesque but not more so than many human beings,dark glasses, greyish whiskers, and a wig. I could find nounderclothing, but that I could buy subsequently, and for the time Iswathed myself in calico dominoes and some white cashmere scarfs. Icould find no socks, but the hunchback's boots were rather a loosefit and sufficed. In a desk in the shop were three sovereigns andabout thirty shillings' worth of silver, and in a locked cupboard Iburst in the inner room were eight pounds in gold. I could go forthinto the world again, equipped.
"Then came a curious hesitation. Was my appearance reallycredible? I tried myself with a little bedroom looking-glass,inspecting myself from every point of view to discover anyforgotten chink, but it all seemed sound. I was grotesque to thetheatrical pitch, a stage miser, but I was certainly not a physicalimpossibility. Gathering confidence, I took my looking-glass downinto the shop, pulled down the shop blinds, and surveyed myselffrom every point of view with the help of the cheval glass in thecorner.
"I spent some minutes screwing up my courage and then unlocked theshop door and marched out into the street, leaving the little manto get out of his sheet again when he liked. In five minutes adozen turnings intervened between me and the costumier's shop. Noone appeared to notice me very pointedly. My last difficulty seemedovercome."
He stopped again.
"And you troubled no more about the hunchback?" said Kemp.
"No," said the Invisible Man. "Nor have I heard what became of him.I suppose he untied himself or kicked himself out. The knots werepretty tight."
He became silent and went to the window and stared out.
"What happened when you went out into the Strand?"
"Oh!--disillusionment again. I thought my troubles were over.Practically I thought I had impunity to do whatever I chose,everything--save to give away my secret. So I thought. Whatever Idid, whatever the consequences might be, was nothing to me. I hadmerely to fling aside my garments and vanish. No person could holdme. I could take my money where I found it. I decided to treatmyself to a sumptuous feast, and then put up at a good hotel, andaccumulate a new outfit of property. I felt amazingly confident;it's not particularly pleasant recalling that I was an ass. I wentinto a place and was already ordering lunch, when it occurred to methat I could not eat unless I exposed my invisible face. I finishedordering the lunch, told the man I should be back in ten minutes,and went out exasperated. I don't know if you have ever beendisappointed in your appetite."
"Not quite so badly," said Kemp, "but I can imagine it."
"I could have smashed the silly devils. At last, faint with thedesire for tasteful food, I went into another place and demanded aprivate room. 'I am disfigured,' I said. 'Badly.' They looked atme curiously, but of course it was not their affair--and so atlast I got my lunch. It was not particularly well served, but itsufficed; and when I had had it, I sat over a cigar, trying to planmy line of action. And outside a snowstorm was beginning.
"The more I thought it over, Kemp, the more I realised what ahelpless absurdity an Invisible Man was--in a cold and dirtyclimate and a crowded civilised city. Before I made this madexperiment I had dreamt of a thousand advantages. That afternoonit seemed all disappointment. I went over the heads of the thingsa man reckons desirable. No doubt invisibility made it possibleto get them, but it made it impossible to enjoy them when theyare got. Ambition--what is the good of pride of place when youcannot appear there? What is the good of the love of woman whenher name must needs be Delilah? I have no taste for politics, forthe blackguardisms of fame, for philanthropy, for sport. What wasI to do? And for this I had become a wrapped-up mystery, a swathedand bandaged caricature of a man!"
He paused, and his attitude suggested a roving glance at thewindow.
"But how did you get to Iping?" said Kemp, anxious to keep hisguest busy talking.
"I went there to work. I had one hope. It was a half idea! I haveit still. It is a full blown idea now. A way of getting back! Ofrestoring what I have done. When I choose. When I have done all Imean to do invisibly. And that is what I chiefly want to talk toyou about now."
"You went straight to Iping?"
"Yes. I had simply to get my three volumes of memoranda and mycheque-book, my luggage and underclothing, order a quantity ofchemicals to work out this idea of mine--I will show you thecalculations as soon as I get my books--and then I started. Jove!I remember the snowstorm now, and the accursed bo
ther it was tokeep the snow from damping my pasteboard nose."
"At the end," said Kemp, "the day before yesterday, when they foundyou out, you rather--to judge by the papers--"
"I did. Rather. Did I kill that fool of a constable?"
"No," said Kemp. "He's expected to recover."
"That's his luck, then. I clean lost my temper, the fools! Whycouldn't they leave me alone? And that grocer lout?"
"There are no deaths expected," said Kemp.
"I don't know about that tramp of mine," said the Invisible Man,with an unpleasant laugh.
"By Heaven, Kemp, you don't know what rage _is_! ... To have workedfor years, to have planned and plotted, and then to get somefumbling purblind idiot messing across your course! ... Everyconceivable sort of silly creature that has ever been created hasbeen sent to cross me.
"If I have much more of it, I shall go wild--I shall startmowing 'em.
"As it is, they've made things a thousand times more difficult."
"No doubt it's exasperating," said Kemp, drily.