Solo Book Club

The Invisible Man Part 4

Chantelle Bryant Season 4 Episode 4

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0:00 | 34:03

The Invisible Man attacks the village of Iping.

Included in this episode:
Chapter 10 Mr Marvel's Visit to Iping
Chapter 11 In the Coach and Horses
Chapter 12 The Invisible Man Loses his Temper
Chapter 13 Mr Marvel Discusses his Resignation

Author: H.G. Wells

How invisibility would wreck your body and destroy your DNA

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SPEAKER_00

Welcome to Solo Book Club. We are currently reading The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells. This is part four. What happened in part three? That's a good question. A lot happened actually. Especially because the first two parts, not a whole lot happened. Like there was a lot of kind of setting up, a lot of suspicion. Who is this stranger? We kind of figured out, we kind of guessed he was the invisible man. Turns out he is the invisible man. He has made his invisibility visible to the villagers. They understandably were shocked and taken aback and didn't like it. So they tried to arrest him because he's invisible, got away. He's now found this guy lying on the ground, and he's kind of enlisted him to help him. I guess. I guess that's where we're up to. So let's get started. Chapter 10. Mr. Marvel's Visit to Ipping. After the first gusty panic had spent itself, Ipping became argumentative. Scepticism suddenly reared its head. Rather nervous scepticism. Not at all assured of its back, but scepticism nevertheless. It is so much easier not to believe in an invisible man, and those who had actually seen him dissolve into air or felt the strength of his arms could be counted on the fingers of two hands. And of these witnesses, Mr. Wadgers was presently missing, having retired impregnably behind the bolts and bars of his own house. And Jaffers was lying stunned in the parlour of the coach and horses. Great and strange ideas, transcending experience often have less effect upon men and women than smaller, more tangible considerations. Ipping was gay with bunting and everybody was in gala dress. Whitmonday had been looked forward to for a month or more. By the afternoon, even those who believed in the unseen were beginning to resume their little amusements in a tentative fashion, on the supposition that he had quite gone away, and with the sceptics he was already a jest. But people, sceptics and believers alike were remarkably social all that day. Haysman's meadow was gay with a tent in which Mrs. Bunting and other ladies were preparing tea, while without the Sunday school children ran races and played games under the noisy guidance of the curate and the Mrs. Cuss and Sackbutt. No doubt there was a slight uneasiness in the air, but people for the most part had the sense to conceal whatever imaginative qualms they experienced. On the village green, an inclined string down which, clinging the while to a pulley string handle, one could be hurled violently against a sack at the other end, came in for considerable favour among the adolescent. There were swings and coconut shires and promenading, and the steam organ attached to the swings filled the air with a pungent flavour of oil and with equally pungent music. Members of the club who had attended church in the morning were splendid in badges of pink and green, and some of the greyer-minded had also adorned their bowler hats with brilliant coloured flavours of ribbon. Old Fletcher, whose conceptions of holiday making were severe, was visible through the jasmine about his window or through the open door, whichever way you chose to look. Poised delicately on a plank supported on two chairs and whitewashing the ceiling of his front room. About four o'clock, a stranger entered the village from the direction of the downs. He was a short, stout person in an extraordinarily shabby top hat, and he appeared to be very much out of breath. His cheeks were alternately limp and tightly puffed. His mottled face was apprehensive and he moved with a sort of reluctant alacrity. He turned the corner by the church and directed his way to the coach and horses. Among others, old Fletcher remembered seeing him, and indeed the old gentleman was so struck by his peculiar agitation that he inadvertently allowed a quantity of whitewash to run down the brush into the sleeve of his coat while regarding him. I'm assuming this stranger is Mr. Marvel, not the invisible stranger, who, oddly enough, we still don't know his name. This stranger, to the perceptions of the proprietor of the coconut shy, appeared to be talking to himself, and Mr. Huckster remarked the same thing. He stopped at the foot of the coach and horse's steps, and according to Mr. Huckster, appeared to undergo a severe internal struggle before he could induce himself to enter the house. Finally, he marched up the steps and was seen by Mr. Huckster to turn to the left and open the door of the parlour. Mr. Huckster heard voices from within the room and from the bar appraising the man of his error. That room's private, said Hall, and the stranger shut the door clumsily and went into the bar. In the course of a few minutes he reappeared, wiping his lips with the back of his hand with an air of quiet satisfaction that somehow impressed Mr. Huckster as assumed. He stood looking about him for some moments, and then Mr. Huckster saw him walk in an oddly furtive manner towards the gates of the yard, upon which the parlour window opened. The stranger, after some hesitation, leant against one of the gateposts, produced a short clay pipe and prepared to fill it. His fingers trembled while doing so. He lit it clumsily and folding his arms began to smoke in a languid attitude, an attitude which his occasional quick glances up the yard altogether belied. All this Mr. Huckster saw over the canisters of the tobacco window, and the singularity of the man's behaviour prompted him to maintain his observation. Presently the stranger stood up abruptly and put his pipe in his pocket. Then he vanished into the yard. Forthwith, Mr. Huckster, conceiving he was witness of some petty larceny, leapt round his counter and ran out into the road to intercept the thief. As he did so, Mr. Marvel reappeared, his hat askew, a big bundle and a blue tablecloth in one hand, and three books tied together, as it proved afterwards with the vicar's braces in the other. Directly he saw Huckster, he gave a sort of gasp, and turning sharply to the left began to run. Stop, thief! cried Huckster and set off after him. Mr Huckster's sensations were vivid but brief. He saw the man just before him and spurting briskly for the church corner and the down road. He saw the village flags and festivities beyond, and a face or two turned towards him. He bawled, Stop, thief again and set off gallantly. He had hardly gone ten strides before his shin was caught in some mysterious fashion and he was no longer running, but flying with incredible velocity through the air. He saw the ground suddenly close to his head, the world seemed to splash into a million whirling specks of light, and subsequent proceedings interested him no more. I guess that's an interesting way of saying he was unconscious. He he hit his head and he got knocked out. But this is interesting. So Mr. Marvel has obviously I mean, obviously the invisible man is with Thomas Marvel and he's like helping him, showing him where to go. Marvel opened the parlour door, which let the invisible man in. He's passed him stuff through the window. Now Marvel's running away. The invisible man has tripped Huckster who's fallen down, knocked himself out. I mean, quite an operation. Chapter 11 In the Coach and Horses. Now, in order clearly to understand what had happened in the inn, it is necessary to go back to the moment when Mr. Marvel first came into view of Mr. Huckster's window. At that precise moment, Mr. Cuss and Mr Bunting were in the parlour. They were seriously investigating the strange occurrences of the morning and were, with Mr Hall's permission, making a thorough examination of the invisible man's belongings. Ah, now they're even referring to him as the invisible man. Jaffez had partially recovered from his fall and had gone home in the charge of his sympathetic friends. The stranger's scattered garments had been removed by Mrs. Hall and the room tidied up, and on the table under the window where the stranger had been wont to work, Cuss had hit almost at once on three big books in manuscript labelled Diary. Diary, said Cus, putting the three books on the table, now at any rate we shall learn something. The vicar stood with his hands on the table. Diary, repeated Cuss, sitting down, putting two volumes to support the third and opening it. Hmm, no name on the fly leaf. Bother. Cipher and figures. The vicar came round to look over his shoulder. Cuss turned the pages over with a face suddenly disappointed. Dear me, it's all cipher bunting. There are no diagrams, asked Mr Bunting, no illustrations throwing light. See for yourself, said Mr Cuss. Some of it's mathematical, and some of it's Russian or some such language, to judge by the letters, and some of it's Greek. Now the Greek, I thought you of course, said Mr Bunting, taking out and wiping his spectacles and feeling suddenly very uncomfortable, for he had no Greek left in his mind worth talking about. Yes, the Greek, of course, may furnish a clue. I'll find you a place. I'd rather glance through the volumes first, said Mr Bunting, still wiping. A general impression first, Cuss, and then, you know, we can go looking for clues. He coughed, put on his glasses, arranged them fastidiously, coughed again and wished something would happen to avert the seemingly inevitable exposure. Then he took the volume Cuss handed him in a legally manner, and then something did happen. The door opened suddenly. Both gentlemen started violently, looked round and were relieved to see a sporadically rosy face beneath a furry silk hat. Tap, asked the face, and stood staring. No, said both gentlemen at once. Over the other side, my man, said Mr Bunting. And please shut that door, said Mr Cuss irritably. All right, said the intruder, as it seemed in a low voice curiously different from the huskiness of its first inquiry. Right you are, said the intruder in the former voice. Stand clear, and he vanished and closed the door. A sailor, I should judge, said Mr Bunting, amusing fellows they are. Stand clear indeed. A nautical term referring to his getting back out of the room, I suppose. I dare say so, said Cuss. My nerves are all loose today, it quite made me jump. The door opening like that? Mr Bunting smiled as if he had not jumped. And now, he said with a sigh, these books. One minute, said Cuss, and went and locked the door. Now I think we are safe from interruption. Someone sniffed as he did so. One thing is indisputable, said Bunting, drawing up a chair next to that of Cuss. There certainly have been very strange things happening in Ipping during the last few days. Very strange. I cannot, of course, believe in this absurd invisibility story. It's incredible, said Cuss. Incredible. But the fact remains that I saw, I certainly saw right down his sleeve. But did you, are you sure? Suppose a mirror, for instance. Hallucinations are so easily produced. I don't know if you have ever really seen a good conjurer. I won't argue again, said Cuss. We've thrashed that out, Bunting, and just now there's these books. Ah, here's some of what I take to be Greek. Greek letters, certainly. So it seems that Bunting and Cuss certainly, and I imagine the rest of the villagers, the ones who saw the invisible man become invisible, obviously certain of what they saw. But the ones who didn't or didn't catch hold of him when he was invisible, obviously they just they just can't believe it. And they're going, are you sure it wasn't a trick of the light? Are you sure it wasn't mirrors? Like, you know, conjurers and magicians, they do all these tricks and it looks real and it feels real. So I guess there's, I mean, like there would be with if if the same thing were to happen today, so much uncertainty. Especially for those who didn't see, who didn't see the invisible man undress himself, who didn't fight the invisible man when he was invisible. So much doubt. He pointed to the middle of the page. Mr. Bunting flushed slightly and brought his face nearer, apparently finding some difficulty with his glasses. Suddenly he became aware of a strange feeling at the nape of his neck. He tried to raise his head and encountered an immovable resistance. The feeling was a curious pressure, the grip of a heavy, firm hand, and it bore his chin irresistibly to the table. Don't move, little men, whispered a voice, or I'll brain you both. He looked into the face of Cuss, close to his own, and each saw a horrified reflection of his own sickly astonishment. I'm sorry to handle you roughly, said the voice, but it's unavoidable. Since when did you learn to pry into an investigator's private memoranda? said the voice, and two chins struck the table simultaneously, and two sets of teeth rattled. Since when did you learn to invade the private rooms of a man in misfortune? And the concussion was repeated. Where have you put my clothes? Listen, said the voice. The windows are fastened and I've taken the key out of the door. I am a fairly strong man, and I have the poker handy, besides being invisible. There's not the slightest doubt that I could kill you both and get away quite easily if I wanted to. Do you understand? Very well. If I let you go, will you promise not to try any nonsense and do what I tell you? The vicar and the doctor looked at one another, and the doctor pulled a face. Yes, said Mr. Bunting, and the doctor repeated it. Then the pressure on the necks relaxed, and the doctor and the vicar sat up, both very red in the face and wriggling their heads. Please keep sitting where you are, said the invisible man. Here's the poker, you see. When I came into this room, continued the invisible man, after presenting the poker to the tip of the nose of each of his visitors, I did not expect to find it occupied, and I expected to find, in addition to my books of memoranda, an outfit of clothing. Where is it? No, don't rise. I can see it's gone. Now, just at present, though the days are quite warm enough for an invisible man to run about stark, the evenings are chilly. I want clothing and other accommodation, and I must also have those three books. I mean I guess that's true. In order for him to be invisible, right, he he has to be walking around naked. But no one knows he's naked because no one can see him. But it seems that even though he's invisible, he still feels temperature. I mean, I wonder how that works. Like, does he warm up in the sun? Because technically the rays would go through him, right? Like they wouldn't hit him. Oh, now we're getting into physics, and that's just a whole nother. I'm sure there's a paper out there somewhere on the physics of the invisible man. You know what? I'll do a Google search after this, and if I find anything, I'll add it into the show notes. But yeah, so he seems to get cold at night and chilly, and obviously he wants somewhere to sleep, even though if he just slept outside, I mean I guess he'd be cold. Yeah. Alright, chapter 12. The Invisible Man Loses His Temper. It is unavoidable that at this point the narrative should break off again, for a certain very painful reason that will presently be apparent. While these things were going on in the parlour, and while Mr. Huckster was watching Mr. Marvel smoking his pipe against the gate, not a dozen yards away were Mr. Hall and Teddy Henfree discussing in a state of cloudy puzzlement the one ipping topic. Suddenly there came a violent thud against the door of the parlour, a sharp cry, and then silence. Hello, said Teddy Henfrey. Hello from the tap. Mr. Hall took things in slowly but surely. That ain't right, he said, and came round from behind the bar towards the parlour door. He and Teddy approached the door together with intent faces, their eyes considered. Some ain't wrong, said Hall, and Henfrey nodded agreement. Whiffs of an unpleasant chemical odour met them, and there was a muffled sound of conversation, very rapid and subdued. You all right, though? said Hall, rapping. The muttered conversation ceased abruptly. For a moment silence. Then the conversation was resumed in hissing whispers. Then a sharp cry of No, no, you don't. There came a sudden motion, and the oversetting of a chair, a brief struggle, silence again. What the deuce? explained Henry, Soto Voce. Okay, so for those who don't know, Soto Voche means like he kind of said it to himself. He kind of mumbled it. Like he said it so that it's n it wasn't meant to be overheard by other people. You all right thought Mr Hall sharply again. The vicar's voice answered with a curious, jerking innation. Quite r right. Please don't interrupt. Odd, said Mr Henfree. Odd, said Mr Hall. Says don't interrupt, said Henfrey. I heard an said Hall. And a sniff, said Henfre. They remained listening. The conversation was rapid and subdued. I can't, said Mr Bunting, his voice rising. I tell you, sir, I will not. What was that? said Henfrey. Says he were not, said Hall. Want speaking to us, was he? Disgraceful, said Mr Bunting within. Disgraceful, said Mr Henfrey. I heard it. Distinct. Who's that speaking now? asked Henfrey. Mr Cuss, I suppose, said Hall. Can you hear anything? Silence. The sounds within indistinct and perplexing. Sounds like throwing the tablecloth about, said Hall. Mrs. Hall appeared behind the bar. Hall made gestures of silence and invitation. This roused Mrs. Hall's wifely opposition. What are you listening there for, Hall? she asked. Ain't you nothing better to do busy day like this? Hall tried to convey everything by grimaces and dumb show, but Mrs. Hall was obdurate. Obdurate? What does that mean? Okay, obdurate means like you stubbornly refused. So Hall's trying to explain to her what's happening but not actually tell her, and Mrs. Hall's like, what are you going on about? She raised her voice, so Hall and Henfrey, rather crestfallen, tiptoed back to the bar, gesticulating to explain to her. At first she refused to see anything in what they had heard at all. Then she insisted on Hall keeping silence, while Henfrey told her his story. She was inclined to think the whole business nonsense. Perhaps they were just moving the furniture about. I heard and say disgraceful that I did, said Hall. I heard that, Miss Hall, said Henfrey. Like as not, began Mrs. Hall. Shh, said Mr Teddy Henfrey. Didn't I hear the window? What window? asked Mrs. Hall. Parlour window, said Henfrey. Everyone stood listening intently. Mrs. Hall's eyes, directed straight before her, saw, without seeing, the brilliant oblong of the indoor, the road white and vivid, and Huckster's shop front blistering in the June sun. Abruptly, Huckster's door opened and Huckster appeared, eyes staring with excitement, arms gesticulating. Yap! cried Huckster. Stop, thief! And he ran obliquely across the oblong towards the yard gates and vanished. Simultaneously came a tumult from the parlour and a sound of windows being closed. Hall, Henry, and the human contents of the tap rushed out at once pell mell into the street. They saw someone whisk round the corner towards the down road and Mr. Huckster executing a complicated leap in the air that ended on his face and shoulder. Down the street, people were standing astonished or running towards them. Mr. Huckster was stunned. Henry stopped to discover this, but Hall and the two labourers from the tap rushed at once to the corner, shouting incoherent things and saw Mr. Marvel vanishing by the corner of the church wall. They appeared to have jumped to the impossible conclusion that this was the invisible man suddenly become visible and set off at once along the lane in pursuit. Well now that's just stupid. Why would the invisible man become visible in order to steal something? Of his own, to take back his own possession. Wouldn't he stay invisible, which we know to oh idiots. But Hall had hardly run a dozen yards before he gave a loud shout of astonishment and went flying headlong sideways, clutching one of the laborers and bringing him to the ground. He had been charged just as one charges a man at football. The second labourer came round in a circle, stared. and conceiving that Hall had tumbled over of his own accord, turned to resume the pursuit, only to be tripped by the ankle just as Huckster had been. Then, as the first labourer struggled to his feet, he was kicked sideways by a blow that might have felled an ox. As he went down the rush from the direction of the village green came round the corner. The first to appear was the proprietor of the coconut shy, a burly man in a blue jersey. He was astonished to see the lane empty save for three men sprawling absurdly on the ground, and then something happened to his rearmost foot and he went headlong and rolled sideways just in time to graze the feet of his brother and partner, following headlong, and two were then kicked, knelt on, fallen over and cursed by quite a number of over hasty people. Now when Hall and Henfrey and the labourers ran out of the house Mrs. Hall who had been disciplined by years of experience remained in the bar next the till. And suddenly the parlour door was opened and Mr Cuss appeared and without glancing at her rushed at once down the steps toward the corner. Hold him he cried don't let him drop that parcel. You can see him so long as he holds the parcel. He knew nothing of the existence of Marvel, for the invisible man had handed over the books and bundle in the yard. The face of Mr Cuss was angry and resolute but his costume was defective a sort of limp white kilt that could only have passed muster in grace. Hold him he bawled he's got my trousers and every stitch of the Vickers clothes Oh that's funny. The invisible man took the vicar's quote oh lord tend to him in a minute he cried to Henry as he passed the prostrate huckster and coming round the corner to join the tumult was promptly knocked off his feet into an indecorous sprawl. Somebody in full flight trod heavily on his finger. He yelled, struggled to regain his feet, was knocked against and thrown on all fours again and became aware that he was involved not in a capture but a rout. Everyone was running back to the village. He rose again and was hit severely behind the ear. He staggered and set off back to the coach and horses forthwith, leaping over the deserted huckster who was now sitting up on his way. 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 recognized 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 he's gone mad 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 Cass and rushed to the window we better clear out from here he's fighting mad mad in another moment he was out in the yard Good heaven said but Mr Bunting hesitating between two horrible alternatives he heard a frightful struggle in the passage of the inn and his decision was made. He clambered out of the window adjusted his costume hastily and fled up the village as fast as his fat little ex would carry him Oh poor Mr Bunting From the moment when the invisible man screamed with rage and Mr Bunting made his memorable flight up the village it became impossible to give a consecutive account of affairs in Ipping. Possibly the invisible man's original intention was simply to cover Marvel's retreat with the clothes and books. But his temper at no time very good seems to have gone completely at some chance blow and forthwith he set to smiting and overthrowing for the mere satisfaction of hurting. You must figure the street full of running figures, of doors slamming and fights for hiding places. You must figure the tumult suddenly striking on the unstable equilibrium of old Fletcher's planks and two chairs with cataclysm results. You must figure an appalled couple caught dismally in a swing and then the whole tumultuous rush has passed and the ipping street with its gourds and flags is deserted save for the still raging unseen and littered with coconuts, overthrown canvas screens and the scattered stocking trade of a sweet stuff stall. Everywhere there is a sound of closing shutters and shooting bolts and the only visible humanity is an occasional flitting eye under a raised eyebrow in the corner of a window pane. The invisible man amused himself for a little while by breaking all the windows in the coach and horses and then he thrust a street lamp through the parlour window of Mrs Gribble. He it must have been who cut the telegraph wire to Aberdeen just beyond Higgins cottage on the Aberdeen Road and after that as his peculiar qualities allowed he passed out of human perceptions altogether and he was neither heard seen nor felt in Ipping anymore. He vanished absolutely but it was the best part of two hours before any human being ventured out again into the desolation of Ipping Street Oh Lord that was a funny chapter. I just can't just this idea of the poor Vicar covering himself with a rug and a newspaper and being so frightened of the invisible man that he jumps out the window and runs down the street. Oh dear so it seems I mean the invisible man has really kind of got his back on on the people of Ipping who tried to arrest him who tried to attack him he's really gotten back at them and um now he's done he scared them all to death they've all run into their houses and homes and locked themselves in and will remain there for the next two hours terrified that the invisible man is out there but they can't see him. They don't know where he is I guess that brings you back to I mean something like Jaws right like the only reason why the shark was so scary was because you couldn't see it. You didn't know where it was in the water where it would come up I guess that's the same with the invisible man and that's probably why he's instilling so much fear in the people who live in Ipping because they can't see him. They don't know where he is is he standing right next to me very interesting I mean hilariously funny if you're watching the vicar desperately try to clothe himself. Alright chapter 13 Mr Marvel discusses his resignation When the dusk was gathering and Ipping was just beginning to peep timoriously forth again upon the shattered wreckage of its bank holiday a short thick set man in shabby silk hat was marching painfully through the twilight behind the beechwoods on the road to Bramblehurst. He carried three books bound together by some sort of ornamental elastic ligature and a bundle wrapped in a blue tablecloth. His Rubicon face expressed consternation and fatigue. He appeared to be in a spasmodic sort of hurry. He was accompanied by a voice other than his own, and ever and again he winced under the touch of unseen hands. If you give me the slip again said the voice if you attempt to give me the slip again Lord said Mr Marvel that shoulder's a mass of bruises as it is on my honour said the voice I will kill you. I didn't try to give you the slip said Marvel in a voice that was not far remote from tears. I swear I didn't I didn't know the blessed turning that was all how the devil was I to know the blessed turning? As it is I've been knocked about you'll get knocked about a great deal more if you don't mind said the voice and Mr Marvel abruptly became silent. He blew out his cheeks and his eyes were eloquent of despair it's bad enough to let these floundering yokels explode my little secret without your cutting off with my books. It's lucky for some of them they cut and ran when they did. Here am I no one knew I was invisible and now what am I to do? What am I to do? said Marvel, Soto Votche. It's all about it will be in the papers. Everybody will be looking for me. Everyone on their guard the voice broke off into vivid curses and ceased. The despair on Mr Marvel's face deepened and his pace slackened. Go on, said the voice. Mr Marvel's face assumed a greyish tint between the ruddier patches. Don't drop those books, stupid, said the voice sharply overtaking him. The fact is, said the voice I shall have to make use of you. You're a poor tool but I must I am a miserable tool said Marvel. You are said the voice I'm the worst possible tool you could have said Marvel. I'm not strong he said after a discouraging silence. I'm not overstrong he repeated no and my heart's weak that little business I pulled it through of course but bless you I could have dropped Well I haven't the nerve and strength for the sort of thing you want. I'll stimulate you I wish you wouldn't I wouldn't like to mess up your plans you know but I might out of sheer funk and misery you'd better not said the voice with quiet emphasis I wish I was dead said Marvel. It ain't justice he said you must admit it seems to me I've got a perfect right get on said the voice. Mr Marvel mended his pace and for a time they went in silence again. It's devilish hard said Mr Marvel. This was quite ineffectual he tried another tact. What do I make by it? he began again, in a tone of unendurable wrong oh shut up said the voice with sudden amazing vigour I'll see to you all right you do what you're told you'll do it all right you're a fool and all that but you'll do I tell you sir I'm not a man for it, respectfully, but it is so if you don't shut up I shall twist your wrist again, said the invisible man. I want to think presently two oblongs of yellow light appeared through the trees and the square tower of a church looms through the gloaming. I shall keep my hand on your shoulder said the voice all through the village. Go straight through and try no foolery. It will be the worst for you if you do. I know that sighed Mr Marvel I know all that the unhappy looking figure in the obsolete silk hat passed by the street of the little village with his burdens and vanished into the gathering darkness beyond the lights of the windows. Oh poor Mr Marvel he's been really dragged into this when he didn't really have any choice. He doesn't really want to be helping the invisible man who by the way is not very nice at all. Like he's really mean he's like threatening people forcing the like he's just he's not a nice person. Let's leave it there for today and we'll find out what happens in the next part. It'll be interesting to see how does the invisible man become visible again. And I wonder what he looks like. He's clearly quite strong to be able to fight a whole village off but I mean we have descriptions of everyone else except the invisible man right like the only description we had of him was of his coverings but now he doesn't have coverings. Interesting all right stick around for part five next week catch you then