“What, real like?”

“Yes, real.”

“Let’s have a hand of you,” said Marvel, “if you are real.  It won’t be so darn out-of-the-way like, then—­Lord!” he said, “how you made me jump!—­gripping me like that!”

He felt the hand that had closed round his wrist with his disengaged fingers, and his fingers went timorously up the arm, patted a muscular chest, and explored a bearded face.  Marvel’s face was astonishment.

“I’m dashed!” he said.  “If this don’t beat cock-fighting!  Most remarkable!—­And there I can see a rabbit clean through you, ’arf a mile away!  Not a bit of you visible—­except—­”

He scrutinised the apparently empty space keenly.  “You ’aven’t been eatin’ bread and cheese?” he asked, holding the invisible arm.

“You’re quite right, and it’s not quite assimilated into the system.”

“Ah!” said Mr. Marvel.  “Sort of ghostly, though.”

“Of course, all this isn’t half so wonderful as you think.”

“It’s quite wonderful enough for my modest wants,” said Mr. Thomas Marvel.  “Howjer manage it!  How the dooce is it done?”

“It’s too long a story.  And besides—­”

“I tell you, the whole business fairly beats me,” said Mr. Marvel.

“What I want to say at present is this:  I need help.  I have come to that—­I came upon you suddenly.  I was wandering, mad with rage, naked, impotent.  I could have murdered.  And I saw you—­”

“Lord!” said Mr. Marvel.

“I came up behind you—­hesitated—­went on—­”

Mr. Marvel’s expression was eloquent.

“—­then stopped.  ‘Here,’ I said, ’is an outcast like myself.  This is the man for me.’  So I turned back and came to you—­you.  And—­”

“Lord!” said Mr. Marvel.  “But I’m all in a tizzy.  May I ask—­How is it?  And what you may be requiring in the way of help?—­Invisible!”

“I want you to help me get clothes—­and shelter—­and then, with other things.  I’ve left them long enough.  If you won’t—­well!  But you will—­must.”

“Look here,” said Mr. Marvel.  “I’m too flabbergasted.  Don’t knock me about any more.  And leave me go.  I must get steady a bit.  And you’ve pretty near broken my toe.  It’s all so unreasonable.  Empty downs, empty sky.  Nothing visible for miles except the bosom of Nature.  And then comes a voice.  A voice out of heaven!  And stones!  And a fist—­Lord!”

“Pull yourself together,” said the Voice, “for you have to do the job I’ve chosen for you.”

Mr. Marvel blew out his cheeks, and his eyes were round.

“I’ve chosen you,” said the Voice.  “You are the only man except some of those fools down there, who knows there is such a thing as an invisible man.  You have to be my helper.  Help me—­and I will do great things for you.  An invisible man is a man of power.”  He stopped for a moment to sneeze violently.