Человек-невидимка / The Invisible Man + аудиоприложение. Герберт Уэллс

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СКАЧАТЬ there wasn’t an arm! There wasn’t the ghost of an arm!”

      Mr. Bunting thought it over. He looked suspiciously at Cuss.

      “It’s a most remarkable story,” he said.

      He looked very wise and grave indeed.

      “It’s really,” said Mr. Bunting, “a most remarkable story.”

      Chapter V

      The Burglary at the Vicarage

      The facts of the burglary at the vicarage came to us chiefly through the stories of the vicar and his wife. It occurred in the morning. Mrs. Bunting woke up suddenly in the stillness that comes before the dawn, with the strong impression that the door of their bedroom had opened and closed. She did not arouse her husband, but sat up in bed listening. She then distinctly heard the bare feet coming out of the dressing-room and walking along the passage towards the staircase. As soon as she felt assured of this, she aroused Mr. Bunting as quietly as possible. He put on his spectacles, her dressing-gown and his slippers, and went out to listen. He heard quite distinctly a noise at his study downstairs, and then a sneeze.

      At that he returned to his bedroom, armed himself with the poker, and descended the staircase as noiselessly as possible. Mrs. Bunting came out, too.

      The hour was about four. There was a faint shimmer of light in the hall. Everything was still except the faint creaking of the stairs under Mr. Bunting’s tread, and the slight movements in the study. Then something snapped, the drawer was opened, and there was a rustle of papers. Then came an imprecation, and a match was struck and the study was flooded with yellow light. Mr. Bunting was now in the hall, and through the crack of the door he could see the desk and the open drawer and a candle burning on the desk. But the robber he could not see. He stood there in the hall undecided what to do, and Mrs. Bunting, her face white and intent, crept slowly downstairs after him. One thing kept Mr. Bunting’s courage; the persuasion that this burglar was a resident in the village.

      They heard the chink of money, and realised that the robber had found the gold-two pounds ten in half sovereigns altogether. At that sound Mr. Bunting, gripping the poker firmly, rushed into the room, closely followed by Mrs. Bunting.

      “Surrender!” cried Mr. Bunting fiercely, and then stooped amazed. Apparently the room was empty.

      Yet their conviction that they had, that very moment, heard somebody moving in the room had been certain. For half a minute, perhaps, they stood gaping, then Mrs. Bunting went across the room and looked behind the screen, while Mr. Bunting peered under the desk. Then Mrs. Bunting turned back the window-curtains, and Mr. Bunting looked up the chimney and probed it with the poker. Then Mrs. Bunting scrutinised the waste-paper basket and Mr. Bunting opened the lid of the coal-scuttle. Then they stopped and stood with eyes interrogating each other.

      “I could have sworn-” said Mr. Bunting. “The candle! Who lit the candle?”

      “The drawer!” said Mrs. Bunting. “And the money’s gone!”

      She went hastily to the doorway.

      There was a sneeze in the passage. They rushed out, and as they did so the kitchen door slammed.

      “Bring the candle,” said Mr. Bunting.

      As he opened the kitchen door he saw through the scullery that the back door was just opening, and the faint light displayed the garden beyond. He is certain that nobody went out of the door. It opened, stood open for a moment, and then closed with a slam. As it did so, the candle Mrs. Bunting was carrying from the study flickered and flared. It was a minute or more before they entered the kitchen.

      The place was empty. They examined the kitchen, pantry, and scullery thoroughly, and at last went down into the cellar. There was not a soul to be found in the house.

      Chapter VI

      The Furniture That Went Mad

      On Whit Monday Mr. Hall and Mrs. Hall both rose and went noiselessly down into the cellar. Suddenly Mrs. Hall remembered that she had forgotten a bottle of medicine from their sleeping-room. Mr. Hall went upstairs for it.

      On the landing he was surprised to see that the stranger’s door was ajar. He went on into his own room and found the bottle as he had been directed.

      But returning with the bottle, he noticed that the bolts of the front door had not been shot, that the door was in fact simply on the latch. He distinctly remembered holding the candle while Mrs. Hall shot these bolts overnight. He stopped, gaping, then, with the bottle still in his hands, went upstairs again. He rapped at the stranger’s door. There was no answer. He rapped again; then pushed the door wide open and entered.

      It was as he expected. The bed, the room also, was empty. On the bedroom chair and along the bed were scattered the garments and the bandages of their guest. As Hall stood there he heard his wife’s voice coming out of the depth of the cellar.

      “George! Have you got the bottle?”

      At that he turned and hurried down to her.

      “Janny,” he said, “Henfrey told the truth. He is not in the room. And the front door is open.”

      At first Mrs. Hall did not understand. Hall, still holding the bottle said, “He is not here, but his clothes are. And what is he doing without them? This is very strange.”

      As they came up the cellar steps they both heard the front door open and shut, but seeing it closed, they did not say a word to each other. Mrs. Hall ran upstairs. Someone sneezed on the staircase. Hall, following six steps behind, thought that he heard her sneeze. She, going on first, was under the impression that Hall was sneezing. She flung open the door and stood regarding the room.

      She heard a sniff close behind her head, and turning, was surprised to see Hall a dozen feet off on the topmost stair. But in another moment he was beside her. She bent forward and put her hand on the pillow and then on the clothes.

      “Cold,” she said. “He’s out for an hour or more.”

      As she did so, a most extraordinary thing happened. The bed-clothes gathered themselves together, leapt up suddenly and then jumped over the bed. Immediately after, the stranger’s hat hopped off its place, and then dashed straight at Mrs. Hall’s face. Then swiftly came the sponge from the washstand; and then the chair, flinging the stranger’s coat and trousers carelessly aside, and laughing drily in a voice singularly like the stranger’s, turned itself up at Mrs. Hall. She screamed, and then the chair legs came gently but firmly against her back and impelled her and Hall out of the room. The door slammed violently and was locked. The chair and bed seemed to be executing a dance of triumph, and then abruptly everything was still.

      Mrs. Hall was in a dead faint. Mr. Hall got her downstairs.

      “These are spirits,” said Mrs. Hall. “I know these are spirits. I’ve read in papers about them. Tables and chairs are leaping and dancing…”

      “Take some medicine, Janny,” said Hall.

      “Lock the door,” said Mrs. Hall. “Don’t let him come in again. I guessed-I might have known. With such big eyes and bandaged head… He has never gone to church on Sunday. And all those bottles. He’s put the spirits into the furniture… My good old furniture! In that chair my poor dear mother used to sit when I was a little girl. And it rose up against me now!”

      “Just СКАЧАТЬ