"But now," said Kemp, with a side glance out of the window, "what are we to do?"
He moved nearer his guest as he spoke in such a way as to prevent the possibility of a glimpse of the three men who were coming up the hill road - with an intolerable slowness, as it seemed to Kemp.
"What were you planning to do when you were heading for Port Burdock? Had you any plan?"
"I was going to get out of the country. But I have changed that plan rather since seeing you. I thought it would be wise, now the weather is hot and invisibility possible, to make for the South. Especially as my secret was known, and every one would be on the lookout for a masked and muffled man. You have ships from here to France. My idea was to get aboard one and run the risks of the journey. From there I could go by train into Spain, or else get to Algiers. It would not be difficult. There a man might always be invisible - and yet live. And do things. I was using that tramp as a money box and luggage carrier, until I decided how to get my books and things sent over to meet me."
"That's clear."
"And then the filthy brute tried to rob me! He has hidden my books, Kemp. Hidden my books! If I can lay my hands on him!"
"Best plan to get the books out of him first."
"But where is he? Do you know?"
"He's in the town police station, locked up, by his own request, in the strongest cell in the place."
"Cur!" said the Invisible Man.
"But that interferes with your plans a little."
"We must get those books; those books are vital."
"Certainly," said Kemp, a little nervously, wondering if he heard footsteps outside. "Certainly we must get those books. But that won't be difficult, if he doesn't know they're for you."
"No," said the Invisible Man, and thought.
Kemp tried to think of something to keep the talk going, but the Invisible Man resumed of his own accord.
"Coming into your house, Kemp," he said, "changes all my plans. For you are a man that can understand. In spite of all that has happened, in spite of this publicity, of the loss of my books, of what I have suffered, there still remain great possibilities, huge possibilities -
"You have told no one I am here?" he asked abruptly.
Kemp hesitated. "That was implied," he said.
"No one?" insisted Griffin.
"Not a soul."
"Ah! Now - " The Invisible Man stood up, and putting his hands on his hips began to pace the study.
"I made a mistake, Kemp, a huge mistake, in carrying this thing through alone. I have wasted strength, time, opportunities. Alone - it is wonderful how little a man can do alone! To rob a little, to hurt a little, and that's all.
"What I want, Kemp, is a goal-keeper, a helper, and a hiding- place, an arrangement whereby I can sleep and eat and rest in peace, and unsuspected. I must have a confederate. With a confederate, with food and rest - a thousand things are possible.
"So far I have gone on vague lines. We have to consider all that invisibility means, all that it does not mean. It means little advantage for spying and so on - one makes sounds. It's of little help, a little help perhaps - in housebreaking and so on. Once you've caught me you could easily imprison me. But on the other hand I am hard to catch. This invisibility, in fact, is only good in two cases: It's useful in getting away, it's useful in approaching. It's particularly useful, therefore, in killing. I can walk round a man, whatever weapon he has, choose my point, strike as I like. Dodge as I like. Escape as I like."
Kemp's hand went to his moustache. Was that a movement downstairs?
"And it is killing we must do, Kemp."
"It is killing we must do," repeated Kemp. "I'm listening to your plan, Griffin, but I'm not agreeing. Why killing?"
"Not random killing but a judicious slaying. The point is they know there is an Invisible Man - as well as we know there is an Invisible Man. And that Invisible Man, Kemp, must now establish a Reign of Terror. Yes - no doubt it's surprising. But I mean it. A Reign of Terror. He must take some town like your Burdock and terrify and dominate it. He must issue his orders. He can do that in a thousand ways - pieces of paper pushed under doors would be enough. And all who disobey his orders he must kill, and kill all who would defend the disobedient."
"Humph!" said Kemp, no longer listening to Griffin but to the sound of his front door opening and closing.
"It seems to me, Griffin," he said, to cover his wandering attention, "that your confederate would be in a difficult position."
"No one would know he was a confederate," said the Invisible Man, eagerly. And then suddenly, "Hush! What's that downstairs?"
"Nothing," said Kemp, and suddenly began to speak loud and fast. "I don't agree to this, Griffin," he said. "Understand me, I don't agree to this. Why dream of playing a game against the race? How can you hope to gain happiness? Don't be a lone wolf. Publish your results; take the world - take the nation at least - into your confidence. Think what you might do with a million helpers - "
The Invisible Man interrupted Kemp. "There are footsteps coming upstairs," he said in a low voice.
"Nonsense," said Kemp.
"Let me see," said the Invisible Man, and advanced, arm extended, to the door.
Kemp hesitated for a second and then moved to intercept him. The Invisible Man started and stood still. "Traitor!" cried the Voice, and suddenly the dressing-gown opened, and sitting down the Unseen began to get undressed. Kemp made three swift steps to the door, and imediately the Invisible Man - his legs had vanished - jumped to his feet with a shout. Kemp threw the door open.
As it opened, there came a sound of hurrying feet downstairs and voices.
With a quick movement Kemp pushed the Invisible Man back, jumped to one side, and slammed the door. The key was outside and ready. In another moment Griffin would have been alone in the study, a prisoner. Except for one little thing. The key had been put in hastily that morning. As Kemp slammed the door it fell noisily upon the carpet.
Kemp's face became white. He tried to hold the door handle with both hands. For a moment he stood pulling. Then the door opened six inches. But he got it closed again. The second time it was opened a foot wide, and the dressing-gown came pushing itself into the opening. His throat was gripped by invisible fingers, and he let go of the handle to defend himself. He was forced back, tripped and thrown heavily into the corner of the landing. The empty dressing-gown was thrown on the top of him.
Halfway up the staircase was Colonel Adye, the recipient of Kemp's letter, the chief of the Burdock police. He was staring at the sudden appearance of Kemp, followed by the extraordinary sight of clothing thrown in the air. He saw Kemp knocked down, and struggling to his feet. He saw him rush forward, and go down again, felled like an ox.
Then suddenly he was hit violently. By nothing! A vast weight, it seemed, jumped upon him, and he was thrown headlong down the staircase, with a grip at his throat and a knee in his groin. An invisible foot trod on his back, ghostly footsteps passed downstairs, he heard the two police officers in the hall shout and run, and the front door of the house slammed violently.
He rolled over and sat up staring. He saw, staggering down the staircase, Kemp, dusty and dishevelled, one side of his face white from a blow, his lip bleeding, holding a pink dressing-gown and some underwear in his arms.
"My God!" cried Kemp, "the game's up! He's gone!"