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    The Invisible Man
    The Invisible Man
    The Invisible Man

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    The Invisible Man

    By H. G. Wells

    3.5/5

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    The Invisible Man is a science fiction novella by H.G. Wells. In the story, Griffin is a scientist who has developed the process to make a person invisible. He tests it out on himself, only to find that he cannot reverse the process.
    This Xist Classics edition has been professionally formatted for e-readers with a linked table of contents. This eBook also contains a bonus book club leadership guide and discussion questions. We hope you’ll share this book with your friends, neighbors and colleagues and can’t wait to hear what you have to say about it.

    Xist Publishing is a digital-first publisher. Xist Publishing creates books for the touchscreen generation and is dedicated to helping everyone develop a lifetime love of reading, no matter what form it takes



    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXist Publishing
    Release dateMar 30, 2015
    ISBN9781623958640
    Author

    H. G. Wells

    H.G. Wells is considered by many to be the father of science fiction. He was the author of numerous classics such as The Invisible Man, The Time Machine, The Island of Dr. Moreau, The War of the Worlds, and many more. 

    Read more from H. G. Wells

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    Reviews for The Invisible Man

    3.5/5

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    • 4/5

      Dec 5, 2018

      Great read. Man.........this guy is a jerk. But I guess karma comes full circle.
    • 4/5

      Dec 5, 2018

      A very good story that I wish was a little reversed in its order; the latter half with its personal retelling of the Invisible Man's origins was most excellent, and I sort of wish the whole tale was told by its invisible participant. The ending was also splendidly vivid. Definitely worth a look if you are interested in the early goings of science fiction, or just want a solid tale with some tension.
    • 3/5

      Dec 5, 2018

      Power corrupts. Wells shows us that we crave that corruption. A wonderful adventure into which Wells sews a warning and entertains us along the way.
    • 4/5

      Oct 23, 2018

      The main man holds court in his parlour in late 1800s England with a story of his incredible travels through time. His chums are advised to listen carefully and to not interrupt. The story begins with conversation on the possibility of time travel itself, and continues with the event having happened. Time travel, in this case, means going forward a lot of centuries to an improbably futuristic year of 800,000 and something. Humans have evolved into two separate sub-species, one placid pleasant lot living above ground and a light-hating flesh-ripping lot who dwell in subterranean darkness. The time machine itself goes AWOL and our man is understandably in a panic about getting it, and himself, back. A rollicking and gripping story which surprised and delighted me.
    • 3/5

      Jul 16, 2018

      A little thick with the social allegory, but an entertaining read
    • 3/5

      Jul 16, 2018

      This classic sci-fi tale, was interesting, but I really didn't enjoy the writing style, or the delivery of the story told. The whole, time travelling to the end of the world was really cool, and I enjoyed the philosophical ideas discussed, but I just really didn't enjoy the whole telling aspect as opposed to showing. In some books, when a narrator starts telling you a story, it starts out as a telling, but then you become immersed in the tale as if you were there and it was happening right then and there - this wasn't the case in this book - it was just like sitting around and someone telling you about the time they time travelled. Which is all well and good - but not what I enjoy when I read a book.

      I appreciate what this story is and did for modern science fiction, but in present day - it just wasn't very great.
    • 4/5

      Jul 16, 2018

      Listened to the Alien Voices production of this work which made the tale come alive. Love those guys. RIP Leonard.
    • 4/5

      Mar 21, 2018

      I read this one as a teen, but it's different, and, in some ways, better than I remember it. "The Time Machine" is, in some ways, an efficiently composed manly-man adventure story that comes complete with monsters, cool machines, and a beautiful, playfully sexual female companion. But in other ways you its a profoundly Modernist text that ably reflects the intellectual currents of its time. Both Darwin and Marx loom large here. Wells's take on human intelligence and endeavor seem directly drawn from the more muscular, violent interpretations of Darwinism: his deceptively peaceful future seems to contain a lesson about the necessity of struggle and suffering in human lives. Meanwhile, the future that the time traveler glimpses might also be described one of the possible fates that might, in the very long run, await a class-stratified society. I don't know too much about the author's politics -- though his character seems to have a low opinion of communism -- so it's hard for me to tell if this aspect of "The Time Machine" has more to do with socialist critique or the author's Englishness. Perhaps it's the latter: there's something about the Eloi, for all their tropical fruits and brightly colored robes, also reminded me of the sort of gently pastoral little folk you sometimes meet in British fantasy literature. After that, the book gets really wild, as the time traveler rockets billions of years into a far future where Earth has become both uninhabitable and almost unrecognizable. The images that Wells presents here are both memorably bizarre and desolate, and it's here that the book really earns its place in the cannon of dystopian science fiction. Indeed, for all the future's beautiful novelty, loneliness seems to be the emotional chord struck most often here. From being the only man with any need of his wits among the Eloi to being the human left to witness an earth taken over by strange, monstrous creatures, to being the only man at his dinner party who really believes that he has traveled in time, the time traveler is very much by himself at almost every stage of this book. Recommended as both a well-written story and an artifact of sorts from another intellectual age. Be careful what you wish for, Wells seems to be telling his readers: human progress doesn't always come as advertised.
    • 4/5

      Feb 26, 2018

      Another classic that I took too long to read...

      I enjoyed this, but am glad (I think) that I read it after seeing the movie. The movie was nothing like this, and I could read the book and be pleasantly surprised at the differences, rather than watching the movie after knowing the book and being incredibly disappointed.

      It is a product of its era, however, and does read in the literary fashion that is common in other classics. If you like that style - as I do, when I'm in the mood for it - then this is a good book to read.
    • 4/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      One should always read the original classics and not assume that the bastardised versions of stories we see in popular culture contain a glimpse of the true theme of the original. This I have always known but it still strikes me how arrogant one must be to think that the original is too boring to present it as it was intended!
    • 4/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      Obviously, The Time Machine is a well-known classic. And from the 4 (of 5) star review, it's clear that I enjoyed it. So I'll skip that and go to some random thoughts...

      I could not believe how short of a story it was. Calling it a novella is, in my opinion, a stretch. Having seen two movie versions, I thought myself familiar with the ins and outs of the story and couldn't believe how much of both movies is made up for the screenplays. I understand that an 80-page short story would need to be fleshed-out to be made into full-length movie, but WOW so much of the movies was changed and molded by the filmmakers. For starters, none of the Eloi or Morlocks speak. To be honest, I still have no idea how the time traveling main character learned their names. And the relationship between the female Eloi (Weena, the only named character) is more of a parent/child or babysitter/child than a love affair and seen in several adaptions, like the Guy Pearce movie.

      Overall, it is definitely a fantastic novel. And one can easily see how it shaped and changed science fiction forever. I think everyone should forget the story of The Time Machine that they know from TV and movies and read this novella. A game changer.
    • 3/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      A strong three stars. Man travels in time to the year 802,701 and comes back with a thinly veiled warning to a rich and indolent society. A society that has perhaps succeeded in "ameliorating the conditions of life to a climax."

      "There is no intelligence where there is no change and no need of change. Only those animals partake of intelligence that have to meet a huge variety of needs and dangers."

      A short but enjoyable tale. My main criticism was the lack of vividness when describing the physical world of 802,701. The imagination could have done with a few more pointers to properly picture it. The chapter near the end where he goes even further into the future and finds himself on a desolate beach in front of the dying, red sun was brilliant.
    • 5/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      Classic. An unnamed time traveler tells his tale. His listeners don't believe him of course. He skips from his time to the distant future. No stops in-between like the movie.
    • 5/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      H.G. Wells's groundbreaking 1895 novel The Time Machine remains a highly captivating story of time travel to the distant year 802,701 and the de-evolution of mankind. The narrative style in which the Time Traveller recounts his adventure to his astonished friends works well, particularly as the pieces together the elements he encounters in that strange world of the future; with the gathering of new clues his thoughts and theories evolve until he ultimately realizes he horrifying truth of the Eloi and the Morlocks (although early on Wells does casually drop in a sly morsel of wry foreshadowing). One of the first and still one of the best of the science fiction genre. Wollheim's introduction in the Airmont Classics paperback edition provides fascinating insights into the Wells's earlier iterations of the story.
    • 3/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      I wonder if vegans object to the Morlocks' diet?

      In what is now a classic of the Science Fiction genre, an un-named narrator has local dignitaries over to his place once a week to tell tall tales and show off his latest inventions to. On one of these evenings he limps in the worse for wear, in desperate need of a steak, and discusses his pocket flower collection.

      When I was a kid I read a lot of the classic science fiction stories from the likes of HG Wells and Jules Verne. It has been so long since I've read them that I thought it was time to revisit these classics. While I can still fondly remember the 1960 movie - let us not speak of the 2002 adaptation ever - the book felt unfamiliar and akin to virgin reading material.

      Whilst The Time Machine does deserve its place in history for influencing/creating Science Fiction as we know it (fantastical ideas explored, social issues analogised), as a novel it is lacking. One example of this is the lack of tension in scenes that are literally life or death struggles. Instead of fearing for the narrator's life and wondering how he'll survive, we are treated to a recounting of the events that could have instead been describing someone having a cup of tea while watching the rain out of the dining room window. A wondrous adventure told as though it was just another day at the office.
    • 3/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      I wasn't a huge fan of this, not because of the story but the narrative style. It was very stiff for me, with all description. Probably my least favorite of all my classical reads so far. I am glad however that I read it, and I really like my edition so I'll definitely keep this one
    • 5/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      'The Time Machine' is a classic science fiction from well over 100 years ago, in which a man is stuck travelling into the future after having invented a time travelling machine. In H.G. Wells's story we get a peek at what the could look like at several stages, including into the far future. In this story Wells helps establish the classic science-based speculative fiction nature of sci-fi. 'The Time Machine' is a must read classic for anyone interested in science fiction. Numerous works since have paid homage and hark back to 'The Time Machine'. The story is entertaining and captivating, and I recommend reading it.
    • 5/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      This is a book you can ruminate on for hours! The book makes interesting comparisons between the creatures we may become, versus the creatures we are. H.G. Wells, as a character in the book, ultimately 'conquers' time by no longer being ruled by it. An engaging and thought-provoking story for any age, in my opinion.
    • 3/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      Leuk om lezen, maar stilistisch duidelijk nog onvolkomen. Goede spanning opbouw.Onthutsend inzicht: het verhaal van de mens is eindig!
    • 2/5

      Feb 7, 2018

      A group of Englishmen sit around theorizing about the (im)possibility of a fourth dimension and time travel. One of them claims he has built a time machine. They all meet again another day, with the time traveler entering the room looking disheveled before embarking on a long story about his adventures travelling into the future.So I was very much looking forward to reading this book, as I had never read anything by H.G. Wells before and this book is considered a science fiction classic (perhaps even arguably the science fiction classic). Unfortunately, I found myself rather disappointed with it. For starters, I just didn't find it that interesting; it didn't really hold my attention. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to get through this slim book because I couldn't focus on it for long. Mostly I couldn't get past how it was VERY much a "tell" rather than a "show" book, with 90 percent of the story being one long narrative from the time traveler. I prefer books that paint a picture rather than simply being talked at by one rather bland character with little personality. Also, maybe because I've read a decent amount of more recent science fiction, this one didn't have the usual appeal of using a speculative idea to talk about the very real issues of today. I think that Wells was trying for that, but I struggled with the transition from "arcane class system" to "thousands of years in the future, cannibalism!" The logical leap just wasn't there. Although I was trying to appreciate its place in science fiction history, this book fell flat for me. I wish I had better things to say about it, but I'd much, much, much rather read anything by Margaret Atwood or Ursula Le Guin for something compelling and thought-provoking -- and would recommend those authors' books over this one.
    • 5/5

      Mar 27, 2009

      This novella by H. G. Wells is about society and decay. A nameless traveler living in the end of the nineteenth century builds a time machine and shows us a bitter image of the future. Humankind is living in a pacifistic, communist and vegetarian society, having all they need and worrying about nothing. What seems like perfection in the first place, later turns out to be a dystopia on its own. It is a great promethean parable, criticizing the two-class-system, but also showing the dangers of nihilist communism. And although the later chapters are weaker in the story they are most beautifully and atmospherically written.Whoever wants to understand Wells has to read this book, the very first of his fancies.
    • 3/5

      May 17, 2020

      I don’t know how I missed H G Wells when I was young. His work is fun but I would have appreciated it more back then.This one shows that Wells has a sense of humor, and yet it’s a dark story. A brilliant physicist concocts a set of devices that enable him to become invisible. Then he loses his notebooks and equipment, so he’s stuck in a condition that isn’t quite what he had hoped it would be. While the story is entertaining and, in the last few pages, exciting, the character’s motivations are obscure. His rage seems to be an inherent part of his character.Recommended for late childhood and early teens, or if you want an easy but distracting read.
    • 5/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      I surprisingly enjoyed this book VERY much! It's tiny, for one thing--I read it in a single car drive to Orlando. Usually I wouldn't be able to afford so much praise to a tiny book. Novella, really. But this book is a glorious exception.

      In it, a time traveler talks lucidly and plainly of his experiences traveling into the future. He sees two races of human-like species, descendants from modern day humans. However, they are "lower" than us and less intelligent life-forms.

      Wells conjectures on what made them this way over the hundreds of thousands of years, and comes to the conclusion that our technology created a society that made it very easy for humans to survive. Intelligence no longer became a factor in reproduction, as is necessary to ensure intelligent offspring. Therefore you get this end result!

      Wells wrote beautifully of social theorizing and what he suspects may happen in both the near and distant future. It's a great book for its time (written in 1895), with people just beginning to wonder about the ultimate effects of technology and increasing industry.

      I also enjoyed, by the way, Wells' numerous comments about the continuing heart and sentiment and love of humans, and our capacity for gratitude, which he portrayed so very nicely in the endearing Weena.
    • 4/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      A Victorian gentleman-scientist known only as the "Time Traveler" builds a machine that can transport him far into the future or back into the past. The machine takes the Time Traveler all the way to 802,701 A.D., where he finds that humanity has split into two separate species: the attractive but intellectually-limited Eloi, who dwell above ground in empty-minded happiness, and the brutish Morlocks, who live underground and fear light. The symbolism isn't very subtle; when the Time Traveler returns to the present day he tells his friends that he believes the dim Eloi are the descendants of the British upper crust, while the uncouth Morlocks' ancestry goes back to the country's working classes. He conjectures that the relative ease of Eloi lives caused the species' moral, physical and intellectual deterioration over the centuries. The Morlocks are still subservient to the Eloi in some respects, but after thousands of years, the underground creatures have found a shocking way to take advantage of the surface-dwellers' fragility.In Wells' pessimistic vision, the forces of natural selection have led not to the improvement of humanity, as is commonly supposed, but to its decline. Despite the novella's age and familiarity (there are several adaptations and movie versions), I was surprised at how engrossing this work still is. I highly recommend it.
    • 4/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      H.G. Wells' famous story of the time machine, amazed that I've not read it until now. Listening is a transition as I go back to 19th century english, but fun. Scott Brick did a good job reading. Now, I'll search for the movies and compare them to the book, like everyone.
    • 5/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      I read this for the first time (somehow!) in a college class I had on literature and themes of evolution in literature, and even though I was familiar with the creatures in the story I wasn't familiar with the actual plot. I was kind of resistant to science fiction as a genre at the time, so I was surprised when I enjoyed it so much. I wound up writing my final paper for the class on this book and themes of social class!The Time Machine is about a scientist who presents his newest invention to his colleagues -- a machine that can actually (as the title suggests) move someone within the "dimension of time", and the scientist demonstrates that by using it for the first time to go far into the future during a time when man has evolved to become two distinct races of human. Things seem idyllic on the surface, but everything is not as it seems as the scientist quickly finds out. This is an exciting story that is both thought provoking and a little terrifying. There is a lot of really great imagery and ideas and it's easy to see why this is considered a classic.
    • 3/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      The Time Machine H.G. Wells

      2.5 stars, round to three


      H.G. Wells is the grandfather of time-travel writing, and I've heard so many things about this book that I guess I expected it to be GREAT! However, I have been torn by how I feel about this book, so it's taken me a couple of days to decide what to say about it.


      The Time Traveler, which is the only name this character is given, has traveled through time to the future. He encounters first what he thinks is an idealistic world of the Eloi, but soon discovers the more sinister and dangerous Morelock. This story is really the telling of a group who come to dine with the Time Traveler (in his present time) and are then told the story of his time traveling.

      Based on the description on the back cover of "shock", "fear", and "adventure", I expected the book to be riveting and fast-paced. I expected the Morelocks to be terrifying as they are described as being on the back of the book. However, I found myself sorely disappointed. The book was not shocking or riveting. The book didn't evoke fear nor was there a real sense of adventure to me. Instead, the tale of the Time Traveler's experiences left me yawning; I was simply bored by it. I guess I wanted something that was more fast-paced in terms of the "adventure" of the book.

      Having said that, however, there were some things that I loved about the book.

      First, the writing is beautifully done. Wells has a way of phrasing an idea that makes a sentence a beautiful thing. Wells can really turn a phrase.

      Second, the text is a well-done social commentary about social structures, about the ideas of class (masters and servants), about rich and poor, and about the impact of technology. Taken as a social commentary, it's a great book with some provocative questions and suggestions about where the future will lead us. Even though the text is set in Victorian times, Wells commentary on social structure is equally applicable today.

      Sadly, the book just falls sort for me on the "adventure" aspect. I guess I just wanted the time traveling part of the book to have more "action".
    • 4/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      You're all Morlocks.
    • 3/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      I thought I knew what to expect from this book since there are so many references to it in popular culture. I was expecting an adventure story along the lines of Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days, using a time machine instead of steam ships. I was wrong. This is a dystopian novel with a pessimistic view of humanity's future. The format didn't work well for me. It's essentially a story within a story. The first person narrator recounts the story told by the Time Traveler after his return, with the Time Traveler's story also presented in first person. I like Sir Derek Jacobi, but his voice wasn't right for this book. It needed a reader with a younger voice. I love time travel stories that visit the past. After this experience with time travel into the future, I may stick with the past from now on.
    • 4/5

      Feb 14, 2017

      The main man holds court in his parlour in late 1800s England with a story of his incredible travels through time. His chums are advised to listen carefully and to not interrupt. The story begins with conversation on the possibility of time travel itself, and continues with the event having happened. Time travel, in this case, means going forward a lot of centuries to an improbably futuristic year of 800,000 and something. Humans have evolved into two separate sub-species, one placid pleasant lot living above ground and a light-hating flesh-ripping lot who dwell in subterranean darkness. The time machine itself goes AWOL and our man is understandably in a panic about getting it, and himself, back. A rollicking and gripping story which surprised and delighted me.

    Book preview

    The Invisible Man - H. G. Wells

    Questions

    ITHE STRANGE MAN'S ARRIVAL

    The stranger came early in February, one wintry day, through a biting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, over the down, walking from Bramblehurst railway station, and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly gloved hand. He was wrapped up from head to foot, and the brim of his soft felt hat hid every inch of his face but the shiny tip of his nose; the snow had piled itself against his shoulders and chest, and added a white crest to the burden he carried. He staggered into the Coach and Horses more dead than alive, and flung his portmanteau down. A fire, he cried, in the name of human charity! A room and a fire! He stamped and shook the snow from off himself in the bar, and followed Mrs. Hall into her guest parlour to strike his bargain. And with that much introduction, that and a couple of sovereigns flung upon the table, he took up his quarters in the inn.

    Mrs. Hall lit the fire and left him there while she went to prepare him a meal with her own hands. A guest to stop at Iping in the wintertime was an unheard-of piece of luck, let alone a guest who was no haggler, and she was resolved to show herself worthy of her good fortune. As soon as the bacon was well under way, and Millie, her lymphatic maid, had been brisked up a bit by a few deftly chosen expressions of contempt, she carried the cloth, plates, and glasses into the parlour and began to lay them with the utmost éclat. Although the fire was burning up briskly, she was surprised to see that her visitor still wore his hat and coat, standing with his back to her and staring out of the window at the falling snow in the yard. His gloved hands were clasped behind him, and he seemed to be lost in thought. She noticed that the melting snow that still sprinkled his shoulders dripped upon her carpet. Can I take your hat and coat, sir? she said, and give them a good dry in the kitchen?

    No, he said without turning.

    She was not sure she had heard him, and was about to repeat her question.

    He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder. I prefer to keep them on, he said with emphasis, and she noticed that he wore big blue spectacles with sidelights, and had a bush side-whisker over his coat-collar that completely hid his cheeks and face.

    Very well, sir, she said. "As you like. In a bit the room will be warmer."

    He made no answer, and had turned his face away from her again, and Mrs. Hall, feeling that her conversational advances were ill-timed, laid the rest of the table things in a quick staccato and whisked out of the room. When she returned he was still standing there, like a man of stone, his back hunched, his collar turned up, his dripping hat-brim turned down, hiding his face and ears completely. She put down the eggs and bacon with considerable emphasis, and called rather than said to him, Your lunch is served, sir.

    Thank you, he said at the same time, and did not stir until she was closing the door. Then he swung round and approached the table with a certain eager quickness.

    As she went behind the bar to the kitchen she heard a sound repeated at regular intervals. Chirk, chirk, chirk, it went, the sound of a spoon being rapidly whisked round a basin. That girl! she said. There! I clean forgot it. It's her being so long! And while she herself finished mixing the mustard, she gave Millie a few verbal stabs for her excessive slowness. She had cooked the ham and eggs, laid the table, and done everything, while Millie (help indeed!) had only succeeded in delaying the mustard. And him a new guest and wanting to stay! Then she filled the mustard pot, and, putting it with a certain stateliness upon a gold and black tea-tray, carried it into the parlour.

    She rapped and entered promptly. As she did so her visitor moved quickly, so that she got but a glimpse of a white object disappearing behind the table. It would seem he was picking something from the floor. She rapped down the mustard pot on the table, and then she noticed the overcoat and hat had been taken off and put over a chair in front of the fire, and a pair of wet boots threatened rust to her steel fender. She went to these things resolutely. I suppose I may have them to dry now, she said in a voice that brooked no denial.

    Leave the hat, said her visitor, in a muffled voice, and turning she saw he had raised his head and was sitting and looking at her.

    For a moment she stood gaping at him, too surprised to speak.

    He held a white cloth—it was a serviette he had brought with him—over the lower part of his face, so that his mouth and jaws were completely hidden, and that was the reason of his muffled voice. But it was not that which startled Mrs. Hall. It was the fact that all his forehead above his blue glasses was covered by a white bandage, and that another covered his ears, leaving not a scrap of his face exposed excepting only his pink, peaked nose. It was bright, pink, and shiny just as it had been at first. He wore a dark-brown velvet jacket with a high, black, linen-lined collar turned up about his neck. The thick black hair, escaping as it could below and between the cross bandages, projected in curious tails and horns, giving him the strangest appearance conceivable. This muffled and bandaged head was so unlike what she had anticipated, that for a moment she was rigid.

    He did not remove the serviette, but remained holding it, as she saw now, with a brown gloved hand, and regarding her with his inscrutable blue glasses. Leave the hat, he said, speaking very distinctly through the white cloth.

    Her nerves began to recover from the shock they had received. She placed the hat on the chair again by the fire. I didn't know, sir, she began, that— and she stopped embarrassed.

    Thank you, he said drily, glancing from her to the door and then at her again.

    I'll have them nicely dried, sir, at once, she said, and carried his clothes out of the room. She glanced at his white-swathed head and blue goggles again as she was going out of the door; but his napkin was still in front of his face. She shivered a little as she closed the door behind her, and her face was eloquent of her surprise and perplexity. "I never, she whispered. There!" She went quite softly to the kitchen, and was too preoccupied to ask Millie what she was messing about with now, when she got there.

    The visitor sat and listened to her retreating feet. He glanced inquiringly at the window before he removed his serviette, and resumed his meal. He took a mouthful, glanced suspiciously at the window, took another mouthful, then rose and, taking the serviette in his hand, walked across the room and pulled the blind down to the top of the white muslin that obscured the lower panes. This left the room in a twilight. This done, he returned with an easier air to the table and his meal.

    The poor soul's had an accident or an op'ration or somethin', said Mrs. Hall. What a turn them bandages did give me, to be sure!

    She put on some more coal, unfolded the clothes-horse, and extended the traveller's coat upon this. And they goggles! Why, he looked more like a divin' helmet than a human man! She hung his muffler on a corner of the horse. And holding that handkerchief over his mouth all the time. Talkin' through it! ... Perhaps his mouth was hurt too—maybe.

    She turned round, as one who suddenly remembers. Bless my soul alive! she said, going off at a tangent; "ain't you done them taters yet, Millie?"

    When Mrs. Hall went to clear away the stranger's lunch, her idea that his mouth must also have been cut or disfigured in the accident she supposed him to have suffered, was confirmed, for he was smoking a pipe, and all the time that she was in the room he never loosened the silk muffler he had wrapped round the lower part of his face to put the mouthpiece to his lips. Yet it was not forgetfulness, for she saw he glanced at it as it smouldered out. He sat in the corner with his back to the window-blind and spoke now, having eaten and drunk and being comfortably warmed through, with less aggressive brevity than before. The reflection of the fire lent a kind of red animation to his big spectacles they had lacked hitherto.

    I have some luggage, he said, at Bramblehurst station, and he asked her how he could have it sent. He bowed his bandaged head quite politely in acknowledgment of her explanation. To-morrow? he said. There is no speedier delivery? and seemed quite disappointed when she answered, No. Was she quite sure? No man with a trap who would go over?

    Mrs. Hall, nothing loath, answered his questions and developed a conversation. It's a steep road by the down, sir, she said in answer to the question about a trap; and then, snatching at an opening, said, It was there a carriage was upsettled, a year ago and more. A gentleman killed, besides his coachman. Accidents, sir, happen in a moment, don't they?

    But the visitor was not to be drawn so easily. They do, he said through his muffler, eyeing her quietly through his impenetrable glasses.

    But they take long enough to get well, don't they? ... There was my sister's son, Tom, jest cut his arm with a scythe, tumbled on it in the 'ayfield, and, bless me! he was three months tied up sir. You'd hardly believe it. It's regular given me a dread of a scythe, sir.

    I can quite understand that, said the visitor.

    He was afraid, one time, that he'd have to have an op'ration—he was that bad, sir.

    The visitor laughed abruptly, a bark of a laugh that he seemed to bite and kill in his mouth. "Was he?" he said.

    He was, sir. And no laughing matter to them as had the doing for him, as I had—my sister being took up with her little ones so much. There was bandages to do, sir, and bandages to undo. So that if I may make so bold as to say it, sir—

    Will you get me some matches? said the visitor, quite abruptly. My pipe is out.

    Mrs. Hall was pulled up suddenly. It was certainly rude of him, after telling him all she had done. She gasped at him for a moment, and remembered the two sovereigns. She went for the matches.

    Thanks, he said concisely, as she put them down, and turned his shoulder upon her and stared out of the window again. It was altogether too discouraging. Evidently he was sensitive on the topic of operations and bandages. She did not make so bold as to say, however, after all. But his snubbing way had irritated her, and Millie had a hot time of it that afternoon.

    The visitor remained in the parlour until four o'clock, without giving the ghost of an excuse for an intrusion. For the most part he was quite still during that time; it would seem he sat in the growing darkness smoking in the firelight—perhaps dozing.

    Once or twice a curious listener might have heard him at the coals, and for the space of five minutes he was audible pacing the room. He seemed to be talking to himself. Then the armchair creaked as he sat down again.

    2 MR. TEDDY HENFREY'S FIRST IMPRESSIONS

    At four o'clock, when it was fairly dark and Mrs. Hall was screwing up her courage to go in and ask her visitor if he would take some tea, Teddy Henfrey, the clock-jobber, came into the bar. My sakes! Mrs. Hall, said he, but this is terrible weather for thin boots! The snow outside was falling faster.

    Mrs. Hall agreed, and then noticed he had his bag with him. Now you're here, Mr. Teddy, said she, I'd be glad if you'd give th' old clock in the parlour a bit of a look. 'Tis going, and it strikes well and hearty; but the hour-hand won't do nuthin' but point at six.

    And leading the way, she went across to the parlour door and rapped and entered.

    Her visitor, she saw as she opened the door, was seated in the armchair before the fire, dozing it would seem, with his bandaged head drooping on one side. The only light in the room was the red glow from the fire—which lit his eyes like adverse railway signals, but left his downcast face in darkness—and the scanty vestiges of the day that came in through the open door. Everything was ruddy, shadowy, and indistinct to her, the more so since she had just been lighting the bar lamp, and her eyes were dazzled. But for a second it seemed to her that the man she looked at had an enormous mouth wide open—a vast and incredible mouth that swallowed the whole of the lower portion of his face. It was the sensation of a moment: the white-bound head, the monstrous goggle eyes, and this huge yawn below it. Then he stirred, started up in his chair, put up his hand. She opened the door wide, so that the room was lighter, and she saw him more clearly, with the muffler held up to his face just as she had seen him hold the serviette before. The shadows, she fancied, had tricked her.

    Would you mind, sir, this man a-coming to look at the clock, sir? she said, recovering from the momentary shock.

    Look at the clock? he said, staring round in a drowsy manner, and speaking over his hand, and then, getting more fully awake, certainly.

    Mrs. Hall went away to get a lamp, and he rose and stretched himself. Then came the light, and Mr. Teddy Henfrey, entering, was confronted by this bandaged person. He was, he says, taken aback.

    Good afternoon, said the stranger, regarding him—as Mr. Henfrey says, with a vivid sense of the dark spectacles—like a lobster.

    I hope, said Mr. Henfrey, that it's no intrusion.

    None whatever, said the stranger. Though, I understand, he said turning to Mrs. Hall, that this room is really to be mine for my own private use.

    I thought, sir, said Mrs. Hall, you'd prefer the clock—

    Certainly, said the stranger, "certainly—but, as a rule, I like to be alone and undisturbed.

    But I'm really glad to have the clock seen to, he said, seeing a certain hesitation in Mr. Henfrey's manner. Very glad. Mr. Henfrey had intended to apologise and withdraw, but this anticipation reassured him. The stranger turned round with his back to the fireplace and put his hands behind his back. And presently, he said, when the clock-mending is over, I think I should like to have some tea. But not till the clock-mending is over.

    Mrs. Hall was about to leave the room—she made no conversational advances this time, because she did not want to be snubbed in front of Mr. Henfrey—when her visitor asked her if she had made any arrangements about his boxes at Bramblehurst. She told him she had mentioned the matter to the postman, and that the carrier could bring them over on the morrow. "You are certain that is the

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