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Kemp read this letter twice, "It's no hoax," he said. "That's his voice! And he means it." He turned the folded sheet over and saw on the addressed side of it the postmark Hintondean, and the prosaic detail "2d. to pay." He got up slowly, leaving his lunch unfinished the letter had come by the one o'clock post and went into his study.
But one can imagine him hurrying through the hot June forenoon, up the hill and on to the open downland behind Port Burdock, raging and despairing at his intolerable fate, and sheltering at last, heated and weary, amid the thickets of Hintondean, to piece together again his shattered schemes against his species.
Going from whispering mouth to mouth, swift and certain over the length and breadth of the country, passed the story of the murder of Mr. Wicksteed. If our supposition that the Invisible Man's refuge was the Hintondean thickets, then we must suppose that in the early afternoon he sallied out again bent upon some project that involved the use of a weapon.
"What a fool I was," said Kemp. "I might have known. It's not an hour's walk from Hintondean. Already?" "What's up?" said Adye. "Look here!" said Kemp, and led the way into his study. He handed Adye the Invisible Man's letter. Adye read it and whistled softly. "And you ?" said Adye. "Proposed a trap like a fool," said Kemp, "and sent my proposal out by a maid servant. To him."
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