“Look here, my good woman—­” he began.

“Don’t ‘good woman’ me,” said Mrs. Hall.

“I’ve told you my remittance hasn’t come.”

“Remittance indeed!” said Mrs. Hall.

“Still, I daresay in my pocket—­”

“You told me three days ago that you hadn’t anything but a sovereign’s worth of silver upon you.”

“Well, I’ve found some more—­”

“’Ul-lo!” from the bar.

“I wonder where you found it,” said Mrs. Hall.

That seemed to annoy the stranger very much.  He stamped his foot.  “What do you mean?” he said.

“That I wonder where you found it,” said Mrs. Hall.  “And before I take any bills or get any breakfasts, or do any such things whatsoever, you got to tell me one or two things I don’t understand, and what nobody don’t understand, and what everybody is very anxious to understand.  I want to know what you been doing t’my chair upstairs, and I want to know how ’tis your room was empty, and how you got in again.  Them as stops in this house comes in by the doors—­that’s the rule of the house, and that you didn’t do, and what I want to know is how you did come in.  And I want to know—­”

Suddenly the stranger raised his gloved hands clenched, stamped his foot, and said, “Stop!” with such extraordinary violence that he silenced her instantly.

“You don’t understand,” he said, “who I am or what I am.  I’ll show you.  By Heaven!  I’ll show you.”  Then he put his open palm over his face and withdrew it.  The centre of his face became a black cavity.  “Here,” he said.  He stepped forward and handed Mrs. Hall something which she, staring at his metamorphosed face, accepted automatically.  Then, when she saw what it was, she screamed loudly, dropped it, and staggered back.  The nose—­it was the stranger’s nose! pink and shining—­rolled on the floor.

Then he removed his spectacles, and everyone in the bar gasped.  He took off his hat, and with a violent gesture tore at his whiskers and bandages.  For a moment they resisted him.  A flash of horrible anticipation passed through the bar.  “Oh, my Gard!” said some one.  Then off they came.

It was worse than anything.  Mrs. Hall, standing open-mouthed and horror-struck, shrieked at what she saw, and made for the door of the house.  Everyone began to move.  They were prepared for scars, disfigurements, tangible horrors, but nothing!  The bandages and false hair flew across the passage into the bar, making a hobbledehoy jump to avoid them.  Everyone tumbled on everyone else down the steps.  For the man who stood there shouting some incoherent explanation, was a solid gesticulating figure up to the coat-collar of him, and then—­nothingness, no visible thing at all!

People down the village heard shouts and shrieks, and looking up the street saw the “Coach and Horses” violently firing out its humanity.  They saw Mrs. Hall fall down and Mr. Teddy Henfrey jump to avoid tumbling over her, and then they heard the frightful screams of Millie, who, emerging suddenly from the kitchen at the noise of the tumult, had come upon the headless stranger from behind.  These increased suddenly.