English
Andnowcomesthestrangestthinginmystory.
Yet,perhaps,itisnotaltogetherstrange.
Iremember,clearlyandcoldlyandvividly,allthatIdidthatdayuntilthetimethatIstoodweepingandpraisingGoduponthesummitofPrimroseHill.AndthenIforget.
OfthenextthreedaysIknownothing.Ihavelearnedsincethat,sofarfrommybeingthefirstdiscovereroftheMartianoverthrow,severalsuchwanderersasmyselfhadalreadydiscoveredthisonthepreviousnight.
Oneman—thefirst—hadgonetoSt.Martin's–le–Grand,and,whileIshelteredinthecabmen'shut,hadcontrivedtotelegraphtoParis.
Thencethejoyfulnewshadflashedallovertheworld;athousandcities,chilledbyghastlyapprehensions,suddenlyflashedintofranticilluminations;theyknewofitinDublin,Edinburgh,Manchester,Birmingham,atthetimewhenIstooduponthevergeofthepit.
Alreadymen,weepingwithjoy,asIhaveheard,shoutingandstayingtheirworktoshakehandsandshout,weremakinguptrains,evenasnearasCrewe,todescenduponLondon.
Thechurchbellsthathadceasedafortnightsincesuddenlycaughtthenews,untilallEnglandwasbell–ringing.
Menoncycles,lean–faced,unkempt,scorchedalongeverycountrylaneshoutingofunhopeddeliverance,shoutingtogaunt,staringfiguresofdespair.Andforthefood!
AcrosstheChannel,acrosstheIrishSea,acrosstheAtlantic,corn,bread,andmeatweretearingtoourrelief.
AlltheshippingintheworldseemedgoingLondonwardinthosedays.ButofallthisIhavenomemory.Idrifted—adementedman.
Ifoundmyselfinahouseofkindlypeople,whohadfoundmeonthethirddaywandering,weeping,andravingthroughthestreetsofSt.John'sWood.
TheyhavetoldmesincethatIwassingingsomeinsanedoggerelabout"TheLastManLeftAlive!Hurrah!TheLastManLeftAlive!"
Troubledastheywerewiththeirownaffairs,thesepeople,whosename,muchasIwouldliketoexpressmygratitudetothem,Imaynotevengivehere,neverthelesscumberedthemselveswithme,shelteredme,andprotectedmefrommyself.
Apparentlytheyhadlearnedsomethingofmystoryfrommeduringthedaysofmylapse.
Verygently,whenmymindwasassuredagain,didtheybreaktomewhattheyhadlearnedofthefateofLeatherhead.
TwodaysafterIwasimprisonedithadbeendestroyed,witheverysoulinit,byaMartian.
Hehadsweptitoutofexistence,asitseemed,withoutanyprovocation,asaboymightcrushananthill,inthemerewantonnessofpower.
Iwasalonelyman,andtheywereverykindtome.
Iwasalonelymanandasadone,andtheyborewithme.
Iremainedwiththemfourdaysaftermyrecovery.
AllthattimeIfeltavague,agrowingcravingtolookoncemoreonwhateverremainedofthelittlelifethatseemedsohappyandbrightinmypast.
Itwasamerehopelessdesiretofeastuponmymisery.Theydissuadedme.
Theydidalltheycouldtodivertmefromthismorbidity.
ButatlastIcouldresisttheimpulsenolonger,and,promisingfaithfullytoreturntothem,andparting,asIwillconfess,fromthesefour–dayfriendswithtears,Iwentoutagainintothestreetsthathadlatelybeensodarkandstrangeandempty.
Alreadytheywerebusywithreturningpeople;inplaceseventherewereshopsopen,andIsawadrinkingfountainrunningwater.
IrememberhowmockinglybrightthedayseemedasIwentbackonmymelancholypilgrimagetothelittlehouseatWoking,howbusythestreetsandvividthemovinglifeaboutme.
Somanypeoplewereabroadeverywhere,busiedinathousandactivities,thatitseemedincrediblethatanygreatproportionofthepopulationcouldhavebeenslain.
ButthenInoticedhowyellowweretheskinsofthepeopleImet,howshaggythehairofthemen,howlargeandbrighttheireyes,andthateveryothermanstillworehisdirtyrags.
Theirfacesseemedallwithoneoftwoexpressions—aleapingexultationandenergyoragrimresolution.
Savefortheexpressionofthefaces,Londonseemedacityoftramps.
ThevestrieswereindiscriminatelydistributingbreadsentusbytheFrenchgovernment.
Theribsofthefewhorsesshoweddismally.
Haggardspecialconstableswithwhitebadgesstoodatthecornersofeverystreet.
IsawlittleofthemischiefwroughtbytheMartiansuntilIreachedWellingtonStreet,andthereIsawtheredweedclamberingoverthebuttressesofWaterlooBridge.
Atthecornerofthebridge,too,Isawoneofthecommoncontrastsofthatgrotesquetime—asheetofpaperflauntingagainstathicketoftheredweed,transfixedbyastickthatkeptitinplace.
Itwastheplacardofthefirstnewspapertoresumepublication—theDailyMail.
IboughtacopyforablackenedshillingIfoundinmypocket.
Mostofitwasinblank,butthesolitarycompositorwhodidthethinghadamusedhimselfbymakingagrotesqueschemeofadvertisementstereoonthebackpage.
Thematterheprintedwasemotional;thenewsorganisationhadnotasyetfounditswayback.
IlearnednothingfreshexceptthatalreadyinoneweektheexaminationoftheMartianmechanismshadyieldedastonishingresults.
Amongotherthings,thearticleassuredmewhatIdidnotbelieveatthetime,thatthe"SecretofFlying,"wasdiscovered.
AtWaterlooIfoundthefreetrainsthatweretakingpeopletotheirhomes.Thefirstrushwasalreadyover.
Therewerefewpeopleinthetrain,andIwasinnomoodforcasualconversation.
Igotacompartmenttomyself,andsatwithfoldedarms,lookinggreylyatthesunlitdevastationthatflowedpastthewindows.
Andjustoutsidetheterminusthetrainjoltedovertemporaryrails,andoneithersideoftherailwaythehouseswereblackenedruins.
ToClaphamJunctionthefaceofLondonwasgrimywithpowderoftheBlackSmoke,inspiteoftwodaysofthunderstormsandrain,andatClaphamJunctionthelinehadbeenwreckedagain;therewerehundredsofout–of–workclerksandshopmenworkingsidebysidewiththecustomarynavvies,andwewerejoltedoverahastyrelaying.
Alldownthelinefromtheretheaspectofthecountrywasgauntandunfamiliar;Wimbledonparticularlyhadsuffered.
Walton,byvirtueofitsunburnedpinewoods,seemedtheleasthurtofanyplacealongtheline.
TheWandle,theMole,everylittlestream,wasaheapedmassofredweed,inappearancebetweenbutcher'smeatandpickledcabbage.
TheSurreypinewoodsweretoodry,however,forthefestoonsoftheredclimber.
BeyondWimbledon,withinsightoftheline,incertainnurserygrounds,weretheheapedmassesofearthaboutthesixthcylinder.
Anumberofpeoplewerestandingaboutit,andsomesapperswerebusyinthemidstofit.
OveritflauntedaUnionJack,flappingcheerfullyinthemorningbreeze.
Thenurserygroundswereeverywherecrimsonwiththeweed,awideexpanseoflividcolourcutwithpurpleshadows,andverypainfultotheeye.
One'sgazewentwithinfiniterelieffromthescorchedgreysandsullenredsoftheforegroundtotheblue–greensoftnessoftheeastwardhills.
ThelineontheLondonsideofWokingstationwasstillundergoingrepair,soIdescendedatByfleetstationandtooktheroadtoMaybury,pasttheplacewhereIandtheartillerymanhadtalkedtothehussars,andonbythespotwheretheMartianhadappearedtomeinthethunderstorm.
Here,movedbycuriosity,Iturnedasidetofind,amongatangleofredfronds,thewarpedandbrokendogcartwiththewhitenedbonesofthehorsescatteredandgnawed.
ForatimeIstoodregardingthesevestiges....
ThenIreturnedthroughthepinewood,neck–highwithredweedhereandthere,tofindthelandlordoftheSpottedDoghadalreadyfoundburial,andsocamehomepasttheCollegeArms.
AmanstandingatanopencottagedoorgreetedmebynameasIpassed.
Ilookedatmyhousewithaquickflashofhopethatfadedimmediately.Thedoorhadbeenforced;itwasunfastandwasopeningslowlyasIapproached.
Itslammedagain.ThecurtainsofmystudyflutteredoutoftheopenwindowfromwhichIandtheartillerymanhadwatchedthedawn.Noonehadcloseditsince.
ThesmashedbusheswerejustasIhadleftthemnearlyfourweeksago.
Istumbledintothehall,andthehousefeltempty.
ThestaircarpetwasruffledanddiscolouredwhereIhadcrouched,soakedtotheskinfromthethunderstormthenightofthecatastrophe.
OurmuddyfootstepsIsawstillwentupthestairs.
Ifollowedthemtomystudy,andfoundlyingonmywriting–tablestill,withtheselenitepaperweightuponit,thesheetofworkIhadleftontheafternoonoftheopeningofthecylinder.
ForaspaceIstoodreadingovermyabandonedarguments.
ItwasapaperontheprobabledevelopmentofMoralIdeaswiththedevelopmentofthecivilisingprocess;andthelastsentencewastheopeningofaprophecy:"Inabouttwohundredyears,"Ihadwritten,"wemayexpect——"Thesentenceendedabruptly.
Irememberedmyinabilitytofixmymindthatmorning,scarcelyamonthgoneby,andhowIhadbrokenofftogetmyDailyChroniclefromthenewsboy.
IrememberedhowIwentdowntothegardengateashecamealong,andhowIhadlistenedtohisoddstoryof"MenfromMars."
Icamedownandwentintothediningroom.
Therewerethemuttonandthebread,bothfargonenowindecay,andabeerbottleoverturned,justasIandtheartillerymanhadleftthem.Myhomewasdesolate.
IperceivedthefollyofthefainthopeIhadcherishedsolong.Andthenastrangethingoccurred."Itisnouse,"saidavoice."Thehouseisdeserted.Noonehasbeenherethesetendays.Donotstayheretotormentyourself.Nooneescapedbutyou."
Iwasstartled.HadIspokenmythoughtaloud?Iturned,andtheFrenchwindowwasopenbehindme.Imadeasteptoit,andstoodlookingout.
Andthere,amazedandafraid,evenasIstoodamazedandafraid,weremycousinandmywife—mywifewhiteandtearless.Shegaveafaintcry.
"Icame,"shesaid."Iknew—knew——"
Sheputherhandtoherthroat—swayed.Imadeastepforward,andcaughtherinmyarms.
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