“You’re right,” said the mariner. “He has .”

All this time Mr. Marvel had been glancing about him intently, listening for faint footfalls, trying to detect imperceptible movements. He seemed on the point of some great resolution. He coughed behind his hand.

He looked about him again, listened, bent towards the mariner, and lowered his voice: “The fact of it is⁠—I happen⁠—to know just a thing or two about this invisible man. From private sources.”

“Oh!” said the mariner, interested. “ You? ”

“Yes,” said Mr. Marvel. “Me.”