He started.  There was a smash from below.  He hesitated and went downstairs again.  Suddenly the house resounded with heavy blows and the splintering of wood.  He heard a smash and the destructive clang of the iron fastenings of the shutters.  He turned the key and opened the kitchen door.  As he did so, the shutters, split and splintering, came flying inward.  He stood aghast.  The window frame, save for one crossbar, was still intact, but only little teeth of glass remained in the frame.  The shutters had been driven in with an axe, and now the axe was descending in sweeping blows upon the window frame and the iron bars defending it.  Then suddenly it leapt aside and vanished.  He saw the revolver lying on the path outside, and then the little weapon sprang into the air.  He dodged back.  The revolver cracked just too late, and a splinter from the edge of the closing door flashed over his head.  He slammed and locked the door, and as he stood outside he heard Griffin shouting and laughing.  Then the blows of the axe with its splitting and smashing consequences, were resumed.

Kemp stood in the passage trying to think.  In a moment the Invisible Man would be in the kitchen.  This door would not keep him a moment, and then—­

A ringing came at the front door again.  It would be the policemen.  He ran into the hall, put up the chain, and drew the bolts.  He made the girl speak before he dropped the chain, and the three people blundered into the house in a heap, and Kemp slammed the door again.

“The Invisible Man!” said Kemp.  “He has a revolver, with two shots—­left.  He’s killed Adye.  Shot him anyhow.  Didn’t you see him on the lawn?  He’s lying there.”

“Who?” said one of the policemen.

“Adye,” said Kemp.

“We came in the back way,” said the girl.

“What’s that smashing?” asked one of the policemen.

“He’s in the kitchen—­or will be.  He has found an axe—­”

Suddenly the house was full of the Invisible Man’s resounding blows on the kitchen door.  The girl stared towards the kitchen, shuddered, and retreated into the dining-room.  Kemp tried to explain in broken sentences.  They heard the kitchen door give.

“This way,” said Kemp, starting into activity, and bundled the policemen into the dining-room doorway.

“Poker,” said Kemp, and rushed to the fender.  He handed the poker he had carried to the policeman and the dining-room one to the other.  He suddenly flung himself backward.

“Whup!” said one policeman, ducked, and caught the axe on his poker.  The pistol snapped its penultimate shot and ripped a valuable Sidney Cooper.  The second policeman brought his poker down on the little weapon, as one might knock down a wasp, and sent it rattling to the floor.

At the first clash the girl screamed, stood screaming for a moment by the fireplace, and then ran to open the shutters—­possibly with an idea of escaping by the shattered window.