English
IspentthatnightintheinnthatstandsatthetopofPutneyHill,sleepinginamadebedforthefirsttimesincemyflighttoLeatherhead.
IwillnottelltheneedlesstroubleIhadbreakingintothathouse—afterwardsIfoundthefrontdoorwasonthelatch—norhowIransackedeveryroomforfood,untiljustonthevergeofdespair,inwhatseemedtometobeaservant'sbedroom,Ifoundarat–gnawedcrustandtwotinsofpineapple.
Theplacehadbeenalreadysearchedandemptied.
InthebarIafterwardsfoundsomebiscuitsandsandwichesthathadbeenoverlooked.
ThelatterIcouldnoteat,theyweretoorotten,buttheformernotonlystayedmyhunger,butfilledmypockets.
Ilitnolamps,fearingsomeMartianmightcomebeatingthatpartofLondonforfoodinthenight.
BeforeIwenttobedIhadanintervalofrestlessness,andprowledfromwindowtowindow,peeringoutforsomesignofthesemonsters.Isleptlittle.
AsIlayinbedIfoundmyselfthinkingconsecutively—athingIdonotremembertohavedonesincemylastargumentwiththecurate.
Duringalltheinterveningtimemymentalconditionhadbeenahurryingsuccessionofvagueemotionalstatesorasortofstupidreceptivity.
Butinthenightmybrain,reinforced,Isuppose,bythefoodIhadeaten,grewclearagain,andIthought.
Threethingsstruggledforpossessionofmymind:thekillingofthecurate,thewhereaboutsoftheMartians,andthepossiblefateofmywife.
Theformergavemenosensationofhorrororremorsetorecall;Isawitsimplyasathingdone,amemoryinfinitelydisagreeablebutquitewithoutthequalityofremorse.
IsawmyselfthenasIseemyselfnow,drivenstepbysteptowardsthathastyblow,thecreatureofasequenceofaccidentsleadinginevitablytothat.
Ifeltnocondemnation;yetthememory,static,unprogressive,hauntedme.
Inthesilenceofthenight,withthatsenseofthenearnessofGodthatsometimescomesintothestillnessandthedarkness,Istoodmytrial,myonlytrial,forthatmomentofwrathandfear.
IretracedeverystepofourconversationfromthemomentwhenIhadfoundhimcrouchingbesideme,heedlessofmythirst,andpointingtothefireandsmokethatstreamedupfromtheruinsofWeybridge.
Wehadbeenincapableofco–operation—grimchancehadtakennoheedofthat.
HadIforeseen,IshouldhavelefthimatHalliford.
ButIdidnotforesee;andcrimeistoforeseeanddo.
AndIsetthisdownasIhavesetallthisstorydown,asitwas.
Therewerenowitnesses—allthesethingsImighthaveconcealed.
ButIsetitdown,andthereadermustformhisjudgmentashewill.
Andwhen,byaneffort,Ihadsetasidethatpictureofaprostratebody,IfacedtheproblemoftheMartiansandthefateofmywife.
FortheformerIhadnodata;Icouldimagineahundredthings,andso,unhappily,Icouldforthelatter.
Andsuddenlythatnightbecameterrible.
Ifoundmyselfsittingupinbed,staringatthedark.
IfoundmyselfprayingthattheHeat–Raymighthavesuddenlyandpainlesslystruckheroutofbeing.
SincethenightofmyreturnfromLeatherheadIhadnotprayed.
Ihadutteredprayers,fetishprayers,hadprayedasheathensmuttercharmswhenIwasinextremity;butnowIprayedindeed,pleadingsteadfastlyandsanely,facetofacewiththedarknessofGod.Strangenight!
Strangestinthis,thatsosoonasdawnhadcome,I,whohadtalkedwithGod,creptoutofthehouselikearatleavingitshidingplace—acreaturescarcelylarger,aninferioranimal,athingthatforanypassingwhimofourmastersmightbehuntedandkilled.
PerhapstheyalsoprayedconfidentlytoGod.
Surely,ifwehavelearnednothingelse,thiswarhastaughtuspity—pityforthosewitlesssoulsthatsufferourdominion.
Themorningwasbrightandfine,andtheeasternskyglowedpink,andwasfrettedwithlittlegoldenclouds.
IntheroadthatrunsfromthetopofPutneyHilltoWimbledonwasanumberofpoorvestigesofthepanictorrentthatmusthavepouredLondonwardontheSundaynightafterthefightingbegan.
Therewasalittletwo–wheeledcartinscribedwiththenameofThomasLobb,Greengrocer,NewMalden,withasmashedwheelandanabandonedtintrunk;therewasastrawhattrampledintothenowhardenedmud,andatthetopofWestHillalotofblood–stainedglassabouttheoverturnedwatertrough.
Mymovementswerelanguid,myplansofthevaguest.
IhadanideaofgoingtoLeatherhead,thoughIknewthatthereIhadthepoorestchanceoffindingmywife.
Certainly,unlessdeathhadovertakenthemsuddenly,mycousinsandshewouldhavefledthence;butitseemedtomeImightfindorlearntherewhithertheSurreypeoplehadfled.
IknewIwantedtofindmywife,thatmyheartachedforherandtheworldofmen,butIhadnoclearideahowthefindingmightbedone.
Iwasalsosharplyawarenowofmyintenseloneliness.
FromthecornerIwent,undercoverofathicketoftreesandbushes,totheedgeofWimbledonCommon,stretchingwideandfar.
Thatdarkexpansewaslitinpatchesbyyellowgorseandbroom;therewasnoredweedtobeseen,andasIprowled,hesitating,onthevergeoftheopen,thesunrose,floodingitallwithlightandvitality.
Icameuponabusyswarmoflittlefrogsinaswampyplaceamongthetrees.
Istoppedtolookatthem,drawingalessonfromtheirstoutresolvetolive.
Andpresently,turningsuddenly,withanoddfeelingofbeingwatched,Ibeheldsomethingcrouchingamidaclumpofbushes.Istoodregardingthis.
Imadeasteptowardsit,anditroseupandbecameamanarmedwithacutlass.Iapproachedhimslowly.
Hestoodsilentandmotionless,regardingme.
AsIdrewnearerIperceivedhewasdressedinclothesasdustyandfilthyasmyown;helooked,indeed,asthoughhehadbeendraggedthroughaculvert.
Nearer,Idistinguishedthegreenslimeofditchesmixingwiththepaledrabofdriedclayandshiny,coalypatches.
Hisblackhairfelloverhiseyes,andhisfacewasdarkanddirtyandsunken,sothatatfirstIdidnotrecognisehim.
Therewasaredcutacrossthelowerpartofhisface.
"Stop!"hecried,whenIwaswithintenyardsofhim,andIstopped.Hisvoicewashoarse."Wheredoyoucomefrom?"hesaid.
Ithought,surveyinghim.
"IcomefromMortlake,"Isaid."IwasburiednearthepittheMartiansmadeabouttheircylinder.Ihaveworkedmywayoutandescaped."
"Thereisnofoodabouthere,"hesaid."Thisismycountry.
Allthishilldowntotheriver,andbacktoClapham,anduptotheedgeofthecommon.Thereisonlyfoodforone.Whichwayareyougoing?"
Iansweredslowly.
"Idon'tknow,"Isaid."Ihavebeenburiedintheruinsofahousethirteenorfourteendays.Idon'tknowwhathashappened."
Helookedatmedoubtfully,thenstarted,andlookedwithachangedexpression.
"I'venowishtostopabouthere,"saidI."IthinkIshallgotoLeatherhead,formywifewasthere."
Heshotoutapointingfinger.
"Itisyou,"saidhe;"themanfromWoking.Andyouweren'tkilledatWeybridge?"
Irecognisedhimatthesamemoment.
"Youaretheartillerymanwhocameintomygarden."
"Goodluck!"hesaid."Weareluckyones!Fancyyou!"Heputoutahand,andItookit."Icrawledupadrain,"hesaid."Buttheydidn'tkilleveryone.
AndaftertheywentawayIgotofftowardsWaltonacrossthefields.
But——It'snotsixteendaysaltogether—andyourhairisgrey."Helookedoverhisshouldersuddenly."Onlyarook,"hesaid.
"Onegetstoknowthatbirdshaveshadowsthesedays.Thisisabitopen.
Letuscrawlunderthosebushesandtalk."
"HaveyouseenanyMartians?"Isaid."SinceIcrawledout——"
"They'vegoneawayacrossLondon,"hesaid.
"Iguessthey'vegotabiggercampthere.
Ofanight,alloverthere,Hampsteadway,theskyisalivewiththeirlights.
It'slikeagreatcity,andintheglareyoucanjustseethemmoving.Bydaylightyoucan't.
Butnearer—Ihaven'tseenthem—"(hecountedonhisfingers)"fivedays.
ThenIsawacoupleacrossHammersmithwaycarryingsomethingbig.
Andthenightbeforelast"—hestoppedandspokeimpressively—"itwasjustamatteroflights,butitwassomethingupintheair.
Ibelievethey'vebuiltaflying–machine,andarelearningtofly."
Istopped,onhandsandknees,forwehadcometothebushes.
"Fly!"
"Yes,"hesaid,"fly."
Iwentonintoalittlebower,andsatdown.
"Itisalloverwithhumanity,"Isaid."Iftheycandothattheywillsimplygoroundtheworld."
Henodded.
"Theywill.But——Itwillrelievethingsoverhereabit.Andbesides——"Helookedatme."Aren'tyousatisfieditisupwithhumanity?Iam.We'redown;we'rebeat."
Istared.Strangeasitmayseem,Ihadnotarrivedatthisfact—afactperfectlyobvioussosoonashespoke.
Ihadstillheldavaguehope;rather,Ihadkeptalifelonghabitofmind.Herepeatedhiswords,"We'rebeat."Theycarriedabsoluteconviction.
"It'sallover,"hesaid."They'velostone—justone.
Andthey'vemadetheirfootinggoodandcrippledthegreatestpowerintheworld.They'vewalkedoverus.
ThedeathofthatoneatWeybridgewasanaccident.Andtheseareonlypioneers.Theykeptoncoming.
Thesegreenstars—I'veseennonethesefiveorsixdays,butI'venodoubtthey'refallingsomewhereeverynight.Nothing'stobedone.We'reunder!We'rebeat!"
Imadehimnoanswer.Isatstaringbeforeme,tryinginvaintodevisesomecountervailingthought.
"Thisisn'tawar,"saidtheartilleryman."Itneverwasawar,anymorethanthere'swarbetweenmanandants."
SuddenlyIrecalledthenightintheobservatory.
"Afterthetenthshottheyfirednomore—atleast,untilthefirstcylindercame."
"Howdoyouknow?"saidtheartilleryman.Iexplained.Hethought.
"Somethingwrongwiththegun,"hesaid."Butwhatifthereis?They'llgetitrightagain.
Andevenifthere'sadelay,howcanitaltertheend?It'sjustmenandants.
There'stheantsbuildstheircities,livetheirlives,havewars,revolutions,untilthemenwantthemoutoftheway,andthentheygooutoftheway.That'swhatwearenow—justants.Only——"
"Yes,"Isaid.
"We'reeatableants."
Wesatlookingateachother.
"Andwhatwilltheydowithus?"Isaid.
"That'swhatI'vebeenthinking,"hesaid;"that'swhatI'vebeenthinking.AfterWeybridgeIwentsouth—thinking.Isawwhatwasup.
Mostofthepeoplewerehardatitsquealingandexcitingthemselves.ButI'mnotsofondofsquealing.
I'vebeeninsightofdeathonceortwice;I'mnotanornamentalsoldier,andatthebestandworst,death—it'sjustdeath.
Andit'sthemanthatkeepsonthinkingcomesthrough.Isaweveryonetrackingawaysouth.
SaysI,'Foodwon'tlastthisway,'andIturnedrightback.
IwentfortheMartianslikeasparrowgoesforman.
Allround"—hewavedahandtothehorizon—"they'restarvinginheaps,bolting,treadingoneachother...."
Hesawmyface,andhaltedawkwardly.
"NodoubtlotswhohadmoneyhavegoneawaytoFrance,"hesaid.
Heseemedtohesitatewhethertoapologise,metmyeyes,andwenton:"There'sfoodallabouthere.
Cannedthingsinshops;wines,spirits,mineralwaters;andthewatermainsanddrainsareempty.
Well,IwastellingyouwhatIwasthinking.
'Here'sintelligentthings,'Isaid,'anditseemstheywantusforfood.
First,they'llsmashusup—ships,machines,guns,cities,alltheorderandorganisation.Allthatwillgo.
Ifwewerethesizeofantswemightpullthrough.Butwe'renot.It'salltoobulkytostop.That'sthefirstcertainty.'Eh?"
Iassented.
"Itis;I'vethoughtitout.Verywell,then—next;atpresentwe'recaughtaswe'rewanted.
AMartianhasonlytogoafewmilestogetacrowdontherun.
AndIsawone,oneday,outbyWandsworth,pickinghousestopiecesandroutingamongthewreckage.Buttheywon'tkeepondoingthat.
Sosoonasthey'vesettledallourgunsandships,andsmashedourrailways,anddoneallthethingstheyaredoingoverthere,theywillbegincatchingussystematic,pickingthebestandstoringusincagesandthings.
That'swhattheywillstartdoinginabit.Lord!Theyhaven'tbegunonusyet.Don'tyouseethat?"
"Notbegun!"Iexclaimed.
"Notbegun.Allthat'shappenedsofaristhroughournothavingthesensetokeepquiet—worryingthemwithgunsandsuchfoolery.
Andlosingourheads,andrushingoffincrowdstowheretherewasn'tanymoresafetythanwherewewere.Theydon'twanttobotherusyet.
They'remakingtheirthings—makingallthethingstheycouldn'tbringwiththem,gettingthingsreadyfortherestoftheirpeople.
Verylikelythat'swhythecylindershavestoppedforabit,forfearofhittingthosewhoarehere.
Andinsteadofourrushingaboutblind,onthehowl,orgettingdynamiteonthechanceofbustingthemup,we'vegottofixourselvesupaccordingtothenewstateofaffairs.That'showIfigureitout.
Itisn'tquiteaccordingtowhatamanwantsforhisspecies,butit'saboutwhatthefactspointto.Andthat'stheprincipleIactedupon.
Cities,nations,civilisation,progress—it'sallover.Thatgame'sup.We'rebeat."
"Butifthatisso,whatistheretolivefor?"
Theartillerymanlookedatmeforamoment.
"Therewon'tbeanymoreblessedconcertsforamillionyearsorso;therewon'tbeanyRoyalAcademyofArts,andnonicelittlefeedsatrestaurants.
Ifit'samusementyou'reafter,Ireckonthegameisup.
Ifyou'vegotanydrawing–roommannersoradisliketoeatingpeaswithaknifeordroppingaitches,you'dbetterchuck'emaway.Theyain'tnofurtheruse."
"Youmean——"
"Imeanthatmenlikemearegoingonliving—forthesakeofthebreed.Itellyou,I'mgrimsetonliving.
AndifI'mnotmistaken,you'llshowwhatinsidesyou'vegot,too,beforelong.Wearen'tgoingtobeexterminated.
AndIdon'tmeantobecaughteither,andtamedandfattenedandbredlikeathunderingox.Ugh!Fancythosebrowncreepers!"
"Youdon'tmeantosay——"
"Ido.I'mgoingon,undertheirfeet.
I'vegotitplanned;I'vethoughtitout.Wemenarebeat.Wedon'tknowenough.
We'vegottolearnbeforewe'vegotachance.
Andwe'vegottoliveandkeepindependentwhilewelearn.See!That'swhathastobedone."
Istared,astonished,andstirredprofoundlybytheman'sresolution.
"GreatGod!"criedI."Butyouareamanindeed!"AndsuddenlyIgrippedhishand.
"Eh!"hesaid,withhiseyesshining."I'vethoughtitout,eh?"
"Goon,"Isaid.
"Well,thosewhomeantoescapetheircatchingmustgetready.I'mgettingready.
Mindyou,itisn'tallofusthataremadeforwildbeasts;andthat'swhatit'sgottobe.That'swhyIwatchedyou.Ihadmydoubts.You'reslender.
Ididn'tknowthatitwasyou,yousee,orjusthowyou'dbeenburied.
Allthese—thesortofpeoplethatlivedinthesehouses,andallthosedamnlittleclerksthatusedtolivedownthatway—they'dbenogood.
Theyhaven'tanyspiritinthem—noprouddreamsandnoproudlusts;andamanwhohasn'toneortheother—Lord!Whatishebutfunkandprecautions?
Theyjustusedtoskedaddleofftowork—I'veseenhundredsof'em,bitofbreakfastinhand,runningwildandshiningtocatchtheirlittleseason–tickettrain,forfearthey'dgetdismissediftheydidn't;workingatbusinessestheywereafraidtotakethetroubletounderstand;skedaddlingbackforfeartheywouldn'tbeintimefordinner;keepingindoorsafterdinnerforfearofthebackstreets,andsleepingwiththewivestheymarried,notbecausetheywantedthem,butbecausetheyhadabitofmoneythatwouldmakeforsafetyintheironelittlemiserableskedaddlethroughtheworld.
Livesinsuredandabitinvestedforfearofaccidents.AndonSundays—fearofthehereafter.Asifhellwasbuiltforrabbits!
Well,theMartianswilljustbeagodsendtothese.
Niceroomycages,fatteningfood,carefulbreeding,noworry.
Afteraweekorsochasingaboutthefieldsandlandsonemptystomachs,they'llcomeandbecaughtcheerful.They'llbequitegladafterabit.
They'llwonderwhatpeopledidbeforetherewereMartianstotakecareofthem.
Andthebarloafers,andmashers,andsingers—Icanimaginethem.
Icanimaginethem,"hesaid,withasortofsombregratification.
"There'llbeanyamountofsentimentandreligionlooseamongthem.
There'shundredsofthingsIsawwithmyeyesthatI'veonlybeguntoseeclearlytheselastfewdays.
There'slotswilltakethingsastheyare—fatandstupid;andlotswillbeworriedbyasortoffeelingthatit'sallwrong,andthattheyoughttobedoingsomething.
Nowwheneverthingsaresothatalotofpeoplefeeltheyoughttobedoingsomething,theweak,andthosewhogoweakwithalotofcomplicatedthinking,alwaysmakeforasortofdo–nothingreligion,verypiousandsuperior,andsubmittopersecutionandthewilloftheLord.Verylikelyyou'veseenthesamething.
It'senergyinagaleoffunk,andturnedcleaninsideout.
Thesecageswillbefullofpsalmsandhymnsandpiety.
Andthoseofalesssimplesortwillworkinabitof—whatisit?—eroticism."
Hepaused.
"VerylikelytheseMartianswillmakepetsofsomeofthem;trainthemtodotricks—whoknows?
—getsentimentaloverthepetboywhogrewupandhadtobekilled.
Andsome,maybe,theywilltraintohuntus."
"No,"Icried,"that'simpossible!Nohumanbeing——"
"What'sthegoodofgoingonwithsuchlies?"saidtheartilleryman."There'smenwho'ddoitcheerful.Whatnonsensetopretendthereisn't!"
AndIsuccumbedtohisconviction.
"Iftheycomeafterme,"hesaid;"Lord,iftheycomeafterme!"andsubsidedintoagrimmeditation.
Isatcontemplatingthesethings.Icouldfindnothingtobringagainstthisman'sreasoning.
Inthedaysbeforetheinvasionnoonewouldhavequestionedmyintellectualsuperioritytohis—I,aprofessedandrecognisedwriteronphilosophicalthemes,andhe,acommonsoldier;andyethehadalreadyformulatedasituationthatIhadscarcelyrealised.
"Whatareyoudoing?"Isaidpresently."Whatplanshaveyoumade?"
Hehesitated.
"Well,it'slikethis,"hesaid."Whathavewetodo?
Wehavetoinventasortoflifewheremencanliveandbreed,andbesufficientlysecuretobringthechildrenup.
Yes—waitabit,andI'llmakeitclearerwhatIthinkoughttobedone.
Thetameoneswillgolikealltamebeasts;inafewgenerationsthey'llbebig,beautiful,rich–blooded,stupid—rubbish!
Theriskisthatwewhokeepwildwillgosavage—degenerateintoasortofbig,savagerat....Yousee,howImeantoliveisunderground.I'vebeenthinkingaboutthedrains.
Ofcoursethosewhodon'tknowdrainsthinkhorriblethings;butunderthisLondonaremilesandmiles—hundredsofmiles—andafewdaysrainandLondonemptywillleavethemsweetandclean.
Themaindrainsarebigenoughandairyenoughforanyone.
Thenthere'scellars,vaults,stores,fromwhichboltingpassagesmaybemadetothedrains.Andtherailwaytunnelsandsubways.Eh?Youbegintosee?
Andweformaband—able–bodied,clean–mindedmen.
We'renotgoingtopickupanyrubbishthatdriftsin.Weaklingsgooutagain."
"Asyoumeantmetogo?"
"Well—Iparleyed,didn'tI?"
"Wewon'tquarrelaboutthat.Goon."
"Thosewhostopobeyorders.Able–bodied,clean–mindedwomenwewantalso—mothersandteachers.
Nolackadaisicalladies—noblastedrollingeyes.Wecan'thaveanyweakorsilly.
Lifeisrealagain,andtheuselessandcumbersomeandmischievoushavetodie.Theyoughttodie.Theyoughttobewillingtodie.
It'sasortofdisloyalty,afterall,toliveandtainttherace.Andtheycan'tbehappy.
Moreover,dying'snonesodreadful;it'sthefunkingmakesitbad.
Andinallthoseplacesweshallgather.OurdistrictwillbeLondon.
Andwemayevenbeabletokeepawatch,andrunaboutintheopenwhentheMartianskeepaway.Playcricket,perhaps.That'showweshallsavetherace.Eh?It'sapossiblething?
Butsavingtheraceisnothinginitself.AsIsay,that'sonlybeingrats.
It'ssavingourknowledgeandaddingtoitisthething.Theremenlikeyoucomein.There'sbooks,there'smodels.
Wemustmakegreatsafeplacesdowndeep,andgetallthebookswecan;notnovelsandpoetryswipes,butideas,sciencebooks.That'swheremenlikeyoucomein.
WemustgototheBritishMuseumandpickallthosebooksthrough.
Especiallywemustkeepupourscience—learnmore.WemustwatchtheseMartians.Someofusmustgoasspies.Whenit'sallworking,perhapsIwill.Getcaught,Imean.
Andthegreatthingis,wemustleavetheMartiansalone.Wemustn'tevensteal.Ifwegetintheirway,weclearout.Wemustshowthemwemeannoharm.Yes,Iknow.
Butthey'reintelligentthings,andtheywon'thuntusdowniftheyhavealltheywant,andthinkwe'rejustharmlessvermin."
Theartillerymanpausedandlaidabrownhanduponmyarm.
"Afterall,itmaynotbesomuchwemayhavetolearnbefore—Justimaginethis:fourorfiveoftheirfightingmachinessuddenlystartingoff—Heat–Raysrightandleft,andnotaMartianin'em.
NotaMartianin'em,butmen—menwhohavelearnedthewayhow.Itmaybeinmytime,even—thosemen.
Fancyhavingoneofthemlovelythings,withitsHeat–Raywideandfree!Fancyhavingitincontrol!
Whatwoulditmatterifyousmashedtosmithereensattheendoftherun,afterabustlikethat?
IreckontheMartians'llopentheirbeautifuleyes!Can'tyouseethem,man?
Can'tyouseethemhurrying,hurrying—puffingandblowingandhootingtotheirothermechanicalaffairs?Somethingoutofgearineverycase.Andswish,bang,rattle,swish!
Justastheyarefumblingoverit,swishcomestheHeat–Ray,and,behold!manhascomebacktohisown."
Forawhiletheimaginativedaringoftheartilleryman,andthetoneofassuranceandcourageheassumed,completelydominatedmymind.
Ibelievedunhesitatinglybothinhisforecastofhumandestinyandinthepracticabilityofhisastonishingscheme,andthereaderwhothinksmesusceptibleandfoolishmustcontrasthisposition,readingsteadilywithallhisthoughtsabouthissubject,andmine,crouchingfearfullyinthebushesandlistening,distractedbyapprehension.
Wetalkedinthismannerthroughtheearlymorningtime,andlatercreptoutofthebushes,and,afterscanningtheskyforMartians,hurriedprecipitatelytothehouseonPutneyHillwherehehadmadehislair.
Itwasthecoalcellaroftheplace,andwhenIsawtheworkhehadspentaweekupon—itwasaburrowscarcelytenyardslong,whichhedesignedtoreachtothemaindrainonPutneyHill—Ihadmyfirstinklingofthegulfbetweenhisdreamsandhispowers.SuchaholeIcouldhaveduginaday.
ButIbelievedinhimsufficientlytoworkwithhimallthatmorninguntilpastmiddayathisdigging.
Wehadagardenbarrowandshottheearthweremovedagainstthekitchenrange.
Werefreshedourselveswithatinofmock–turtlesoupandwinefromtheneighbouringpantry.
Ifoundacuriousrelieffromtheachingstrangenessoftheworldinthissteadylabour.
Asweworked,Iturnedhisprojectoverinmymind,andpresentlyobjectionsanddoubtsbegantoarise;butIworkedthereallthemorning,sogladwasItofindmyselfwithapurposeagain.
AfterworkinganhourIbegantospeculateonthedistanceonehadtogobeforethecloacawasreached,thechanceswehadofmissingitaltogether.
Myimmediatetroublewaswhyweshoulddigthislongtunnel,whenitwaspossibletogetintothedrainatoncedownoneofthemanholes,andworkbacktothehouse.
Itseemedtome,too,thatthehousewasinconvenientlychosen,andrequiredaneedlesslengthoftunnel.
AndjustasIwasbeginningtofacethesethings,theartillerymanstoppeddigging,andlookedatme.
"We'reworkingwell,"hesaid.Heputdownhisspade."Letusknockoffabit"hesaid."Ithinkit'stimewereconnoitredfromtheroofofthehouse."
Iwasforgoingon,andafteralittlehesitationheresumedhisspade;andthensuddenlyIwasstruckbyathought.Istopped,andsodidheatonce.
"Whywereyouwalkingaboutthecommon,"Isaid,"insteadofbeinghere?"
"Takingtheair,"hesaid."Iwascomingback.It'ssaferbynight."
"Butthework?"
"Oh,onecan'talwayswork,"hesaid,andinaflashIsawthemanplain.Hehesitated,holdinghisspade.
"Weoughttoreconnoitrenow,"hesaid,"becauseifanycomeneartheymayhearthespadesanddropuponusunawares."
Iwasnolongerdisposedtoobject.Wewenttogethertotheroofandstoodonaladderpeepingoutoftheroofdoor.
NoMartiansweretobeseen,andweventuredoutonthetiles,andslippeddownundershelteroftheparapet.
FromthispositionashrubberyhidthegreaterportionofPutney,butwecouldseetheriverbelow,abubblymassofredweed,andthelowpartsofLambethfloodedandred.
Theredcreeperswarmedupthetreesabouttheoldpalace,andtheirbranchesstretchedgauntanddead,andsetwithshrivelledleaves,fromamiditsclusters.
Itwasstrangehowentirelydependentboththesethingswereuponflowingwaterfortheirpropagation.
Aboutusneitherhadgainedafooting;laburnums,pinkmays,snowballs,andtreesofarbor–vitae,roseoutoflaurelsandhydrangeas,greenandbrilliantintothesunlight.
BeyondKensingtondensesmokewasrising,andthatandabluehazehidthenorthwardhills.
TheartillerymanbegantotellmeofthesortofpeoplewhostillremainedinLondon.
"Onenightlastweek,"hesaid,"somefoolsgottheelectriclightinorder,andtherewasallRegentStreetandtheCircusablaze,crowdedwithpaintedandraggeddrunkards,menandwomen,dancingandshoutingtilldawn.Amanwhowastheretoldme.
Andasthedaycametheybecameawareofafighting–machinestandingnearbytheLanghamandlookingdownatthem.
Heavenknowshowlonghehadbeenthere.
Itmusthavegivensomeofthemanastyturn.
Hecamedowntheroadtowardsthem,andpickedupnearlyahundredtoodrunkorfrightenedtorunaway."
Grotesquegleamofatimenohistorywilleverfullydescribe!
Fromthat,inanswertomyquestions,hecameroundtohisgrandioseplansagain.Hegrewenthusiastic.
Hetalkedsoeloquentlyofthepossibilityofcapturingafighting–machinethatImorethanhalfbelievedinhimagain.
ButnowthatIwasbeginningtounderstandsomethingofhisquality,Icoulddivinethestresshelaidondoingnothingprecipitately.
AndInotedthatnowtherewasnoquestionthathepersonallywastocaptureandfightthegreatmachine.
Afteratimewewentdowntothecellar.
Neitherofusseemeddisposedtoresumedigging,andwhenhesuggestedameal,Iwasnothingloath.
Hebecamesuddenlyverygenerous,andwhenwehadeatenhewentawayandreturnedwithsomeexcellentcigars.Welitthese,andhisoptimismglowed.
Hewasinclinedtoregardmycomingasagreatoccasion.
"There'ssomechampagneinthecellar,"hesaid.
"WecandigbetteronthisThames–sideburgundy,"saidI.
"No,"saidhe;"Iamhosttoday.Champagne!GreatGod!We'veaheavyenoughtaskbeforeus!Letustakearestandgatherstrengthwhilewemay.Lookattheseblisteredhands!"
Andpursuanttothisideaofaholiday,heinsisteduponplayingcardsafterwehadeaten.
Hetaughtmeeuchre,andafterdividingLondonbetweenus,Itakingthenorthernsideandhethesouthern,weplayedforparishpoints.
Grotesqueandfoolishasthiswillseemtothesoberreader,itisabsolutelytrue,andwhatismoreremarkable,Ifoundthecardgameandseveralothersweplayedextremelyinteresting.
Strangemindofman!that,withourspeciesupontheedgeofexterminationorappallingdegradation,withnoclearprospectbeforeusbutthechanceofahorribledeath,wecouldsitfollowingthechanceofthispaintedpasteboard,andplayingthe"joker"withvividdelight.
Afterwardshetaughtmepoker,andIbeathimatthreetoughchessgames.
Whendarkcamewedecidedtotaketherisk,andlitalamp.
Afteraninterminablestringofgames,wesupped,andtheartillerymanfinishedthechampagne.Wewentonsmokingthecigars.
HewasnolongertheenergeticregeneratorofhisspeciesIhadencounteredinthemorning.
Hewasstilloptimistic,butitwasalesskinetic,amorethoughtfuloptimism.
Irememberhewoundupwithmyhealth,proposedinaspeechofsmallvarietyandconsiderableintermittence.
Itookacigar,andwentupstairstolookatthelightsofwhichhehadspokenthatblazedsogreenlyalongtheHighgatehills.
AtfirstIstaredunintelligentlyacrosstheLondonvalley.
Thenorthernhillswereshroudedindarkness;thefiresnearKensingtonglowedredly,andnowandthenanorange–redtongueofflameflashedupandvanishedinthedeepbluenight.AlltherestofLondonwasblack.
Then,nearer,Iperceivedastrangelight,apale,violet–purplefluorescentglow,quiveringunderthenightbreeze.
ForaspaceIcouldnotunderstandit,andthenIknewthatitmustbetheredweedfromwhichthisfaintirradiationproceeded.
Withthatrealisationmydormantsenseofwonder,mysenseoftheproportionofthings,awokeagain.
IglancedfromthattoMars,redandclear,glowinghighinthewest,andthengazedlongandearnestlyatthedarknessofHampsteadandHighgate.
Iremainedaverylongtimeupontheroof,wonderingatthegrotesquechangesoftheday.
Irecalledmymentalstatesfromthemidnightprayertothefoolishcard–playing.Ihadaviolentrevulsionoffeeling.
IrememberIflungawaythecigarwithacertainwastefulsymbolism.
Myfollycametomewithglaringexaggeration.
Iseemedatraitortomywifeandtomykind;Iwasfilledwithremorse.
Iresolvedtoleavethisstrangeundisciplineddreamerofgreatthingstohisdrinkandgluttony,andtogoonintoLondon.
There,itseemedtome,IhadthebestchanceoflearningwhattheMartiansandmyfellowmenweredoing.
Iwasstillupontheroofwhenthelatemoonrose.
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