CHAPTER XVI
IN THE "JOLLY CRICKETERS"
The "Jolly Cricketers" is just at the bottom of the hill, where thetram-lines begin. The barman leant his fat red arms on the counterand talked of horses with an anaemic cabman, while a black-beardedman in grey snapped up biscuit and cheese, drank Burton, andconversed in American with a policeman off duty.
"What's the shouting about!" said the anaemic cabman, going off at atangent, trying to see up the hill over the dirty yellow blind inthe low window of the inn. Somebody ran by outside. "Fire, perhaps,"said the barman.
Footsteps approached, running heavily, the door was pushed openviolently, and Marvel, weeping and dishevelled, his hat gone, theneck of his coat torn open, rushed in, made a convulsive turn, andattempted to shut the door. It was held half open by a strap.
"Coming!" he bawled, his voice shrieking with terror. "He's coming.The 'Visible Man! After me! For Gawd's sake! 'Elp! 'Elp! 'Elp!"
"Shut the doors," said the policeman. "Who's coming? What's therow?" He went to the door, released the strap, and it slammed. TheAmerican closed the other door.
"Lemme go inside," said Marvel, staggering and weeping, but stillclutching the books. "Lemme go inside. Lock me in--somewhere. Itell you he's after me. I give him the slip. He said he'd kill meand he will."
"_You're_ safe," said the man with the black beard. "The door's shut.What's it all about?"
"Lemme go inside," said Marvel, and shrieked aloud as a blowsuddenly made the fastened door shiver and was followed by a hurriedrapping and a shouting outside. "Hullo," cried the policeman, "who'sthere?" Mr. Marvel began to make frantic dives at panels that lookedlike doors. "He'll kill me--he's got a knife or something. ForGawd's sake--!"
"Here you are," said the barman. "Come in here." And he held up theflap of the bar.
Mr. Marvel rushed behind the bar as the summons outside wasrepeated. "Don't open the door," he screamed. "_Please_ don't openthe door. _Where_ shall I hide?"
"This, this Invisible Man, then?" asked the man with the blackbeard, with one hand behind him. "I guess it's about time we sawhim."
The window of the inn was suddenly smashed in, and there was ascreaming and running to and fro in the street. The policeman hadbeen standing on the settee staring out, craning to see who was atthe door. He got down with raised eyebrows. "It's that," he said.The barman stood in front of the bar-parlour door which was nowlocked on Mr. Marvel, stared at the smashed window, and came roundto the two other men.
Everything was suddenly quiet. "I wish I had my truncheon," saidthe policeman, going irresolutely to the door. "Once we open, in hecomes. There's no stopping him."
"Don't you be in too much hurry about that door," said the anaemiccabman, anxiously.
"Draw the bolts," said the man with the black beard, "and if hecomes--" He showed a revolver in his hand.
"That won't do," said the policeman; "that's murder."
"I know what country I'm in," said the man with the beard. "I'mgoing to let off at his legs. Draw the bolts."
"Not with that blinking thing going off behind me," said thebarman, craning over the blind.
"Very well," said the man with the black beard, and stooping down,revolver ready, drew them himself. Barman, cabman, and policemanfaced about.
"Come in," said the bearded man in an undertone, standing back andfacing the unbolted doors with his pistol behind him. No one camein, the door remained closed. Five minutes afterwards when a secondcabman pushed his head in cautiously, they were still waiting, andan anxious face peered out of the bar-parlour and suppliedinformation. "Are all the doors of the house shut?" asked Marvel."He's going round--prowling round. He's as artful as the devil."
"Good Lord!" said the burly barman. "There's the back! Just watchthem doors! I say--!" He looked about him helplessly. Thebar-parlour door slammed and they heard the key turn. "There'sthe yard door and the private door. The yard door--"
He rushed out of the bar.
In a minute he reappeared with a carving-knife in his hand. "Theyard door was open!" he said, and his fat underlip dropped. "He maybe in the house now!" said the first cabman.
"He's not in the kitchen," said the barman. "There's two womenthere, and I've stabbed every inch of it with this little beefslicer. And they don't think he's come in. They haven't noticed--"
"Have you fastened it?" asked the first cabman.
"I'm out of frocks," said the barman.
The man with the beard replaced his revolver. And even as he did sothe flap of the bar was shut down and the bolt clicked, and thenwith a tremendous thud the catch of the door snapped and thebar-parlour door burst open. They heard Marvel squeal like a caughtleveret, and forthwith they were clambering over the bar to hisrescue. The bearded man's revolver cracked and the looking-glass atthe back of the parlour starred and came smashing and tinkling down.
As the barman entered the room he saw Marvel, curiously crumpled upand struggling against the door that led to the yard and kitchen.The door flew open while the barman hesitated, and Marvel wasdragged into the kitchen. There was a scream and a clatter of pans.Marvel, head down, and lugging back obstinately, was forced to thekitchen door, and the bolts were drawn.
Then the policeman, who had been trying to pass the barman, rushedin, followed by one of the cabmen, gripped the wrist of theinvisible hand that collared Marvel, was hit in the face and wentreeling back. The door opened, and Marvel made a frantic effort toobtain a lodgment behind it. Then the cabman collared something."I got him," said the cabman. The barman's red hands came clawingat the unseen. "Here he is!" said the barman.
Mr. Marvel, released, suddenly dropped to the ground and made anattempt to crawl behind the legs of the fighting men. The struggleblundered round the edge of the door. The voice of the InvisibleMan was heard for the first time, yelling out sharply, as thepoliceman trod on his foot. Then he cried out passionately andhis fists flew round like flails. The cabman suddenly whoopedand doubled up, kicked under the diaphragm. The door into thebar-parlour from the kitchen slammed and covered Mr. Marvel'sretreat. The men in the kitchen found themselves clutching at andstruggling with empty air.
"Where's he gone?" cried the man with the beard. "Out?"
"This way," said the policeman, stepping into the yard andstopping.
A piece of tile whizzed by his head and smashed among the crockeryon the kitchen table.
"I'll show him," shouted the man with the black beard, and suddenlya steel barrel shone over the policeman's shoulder, and fivebullets had followed one another into the twilight whence themissile had come. As he fired, the man with the beard moved hishand in a horizontal curve, so that his shots radiated out into thenarrow yard like spokes from a wheel.
A silence followed. "Five cartridges," said the man with the blackbeard. "That's the best of all. Four aces and a joker. Get alantern, someone, and come and feel about for his body."