prostrate Huxter, and, coming round the corner to join the tumult,

was promptly knocked off his feet into an indecorous sprawl.

Somebody in full flight trod heavily on his finger. He yelled,

struggled to regain his feet, was knocked against and thrown on all

fours again, and became aware that he was involved not in a capture,

but a rout. Everyone was running back to the village. He rose again

and was hit severely behind the ear. He staggered and set off back

to the "Coach and Horses" forthwith, leaping over the deserted

Huxter, who was now sitting up, on his way.

Behind him as he was halfway up the inn steps he heard a sudden

yell of rage, rising sharply out of the confusion of cries, and a

sounding smack in someone's face. He recognised the voice as that

of the Invisible Man, and the note was that of a man suddenly

infuriated by a painful blow.

In another moment Mr. Cuss was back in the parlour. "He's coming

back, Bunting!" he said, rushing in. "Save yourself!"

Mr. Bunting was standing in the window engaged in an attempt to

clothe himself in the hearth-rug and a West Surrey Gazette. "Who's

coming?" he said, so startled that his costume narrowly escaped

disintegration.

"Invisible Man," said Cuss, and rushed on to the window. "We'd

better clear out from here! He's fighting mad! Mad!"

The Invisible Man