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 hearthrug 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!”

In another moment he was out in the yard.