Part 2
Under Foot
InthefirstbookIhavewanderedsomuchfrommyownadventurestotelloftheexperiencesofmybrotherthatallthroughthelasttwochaptersIandthecuratehavebeenlurkingintheemptyhouseatHallifordwhitherwefledtoescapetheBlackSmoke. ThereIwillresume. WestoppedthereallSundaynightandallthenextday—thedayofthepanic—inalittleislandofdaylight,cutoffbytheBlackSmokefromtherestoftheworld. Wecoulddonothingbutwaitinachinginactivityduringthosetwowearydays.
Mymindwasoccupiedbyanxietyformywife. IfiguredheratLeatherhead,terrified,indanger,mourningmealreadyasadeadman. IpacedtheroomsandcriedaloudwhenIthoughtofhowIwascutofffromher,ofallthatmighthappentoherinmyabsence. MycousinIknewwasbraveenoughforanyemergency,buthewasnotthesortofmantorealisedangerquickly,torisepromptly. Whatwasneedednowwasnotbravery,butcircumspection. MyonlyconsolationwastobelievethattheMartiansweremovingLondon-wardandawayfromher. Suchvagueanxietieskeepthemindsensitiveandpainful. Igrewverywearyandirritablewiththecurate’sperpetualejaculations;Itiredofthesightofhisselfishdespair. AftersomeineffectualremonstranceIkeptawayfromhim,stayinginaroom—evidentlyachildren’sschoolroom—containingglobes,forms,andcopybooks. Whenhefollowedmethither,Iwenttoaboxroomatthetopofthehouseand,inordertobealonewithmyachingmiseries,lockedmyselfin.
WewerehopelesslyhemmedinbytheBlackSmokeallthatdayandthemorningofthenext. ThereweresignsofpeopleinthenexthouseonSundayevening—afaceatawindowandmovinglights,andlatertheslammingofadoor. ButIdonotknowwhothesepeoplewere,norwhatbecameofthem. Wesawnothingofthemnextday.
