“Look out!” said everybody, fencing at random and hitting at nothing.
“Hold him! Shut the door! Don’t let him loose! I got something! Here he
is!” A perfect Babel of noises they made. Everybody, it seemed, was
being hit all at once, and Sandy Wadgers, knowing as ever and his wits
sharpened by a frightful blow in the nose, reopened the door and led
the rout. The others, following incontinently, were jammed for a moment
in the corner by the doorway. The hitting continued. Phipps, the
Unitarian, had a front tooth broken, and Henfrey was injured in the
cartilage of his ear. Jaffers was struck under the jaw, and, turning,
caught at something that intervened between him and Huxter in the
mêlée, and prevented their coming together. He felt a muscular chest,
and in another moment the whole mass of struggling, excited men shot
out into the crowded hall.
“I got him!” shouted Jaffers, choking and reeling through them all, and
wrestling with purple face and swelling veins against his unseen enemy.
Men staggered right and left as the extraordinary conflict swayed
swiftly towards the house door, and went spinning down the half-dozen
steps of the inn. Jaffers cried in a strangled voice—holding tight,
nevertheless, and making play with his knee—spun around, and fell
heavily undermost with his head on the gravel. Only then did his
fingers relax.
There were excited cries of “Hold him!” “Invisible!” and so forth, and
a young fellow, a stranger in the place whose name did not come to
light, rushed in at once, caught something, missed his hold, and fell
over the constable’s prostrate body. Half-way across the road a woman
screamed as something pushed by her; a dog, kicked apparently, yelped
and ran howling into Huxter’s yard, and with that the transit of the
Invisible Man was accomplished. For a space people stood amazed and
gesticulating, and then came panic, and scattered them abroad through
the village as a gust scatters dead leaves.
But Jaffers lay quite still, face upward and knees bent, at the foot of
the steps of the inn.
CHAPTER VIII.
IN TRANSIT
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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