Война миров
Under Foot
Contrastingvividlywiththisruinwastheneatdresser,stainedinthefashion,palegreen,andwithanumberofcopperandtinvesselsbelowit,thewallpaperimitatingblueandwhitetiles,andacoupleofcolouredsupplementsflutteringfromthewallsabovethekitchenrange.
Asthedawngrewclearer,wesawthroughthegapinthewallthebodyofaMartian,standingsentinel,Isuppose,overthestillglowingcylinder. Atthesightofthatwecrawledascircumspectlyaspossibleoutofthetwilightofthekitchenintothedarknessofthescullery.
Abruptlytherightinterpretationdawneduponmymind.
"Thefifthcylinder,"Iwhispered,"thefifthshotfromMars,hasstruckthishouseandburiedusundertheruins!"
Foratimethecuratewassilent,andthenhewhispered:
"Godhavemercyuponus!"
Iheardhimpresentlywhimperingtohimself.
Saveforthatsoundwelayquitestillinthescullery; Iformypartscarcedaredbreathe,andsatwithmyeyesfixedonthefaintlightofthekitchendoor. Icouldjustseethecurate’sface,adim,ovalshape,andhiscollarandcuffs. Outsidetherebeganametallichammering,thenaviolenthooting,andthenagain,afteraquietinterval,ahissinglikethehissingofanengine. Thesenoises,forthemostpartproblematical,continuedintermittently,andseemedifanythingtoincreaseinnumberastimeworeon. Presentlyameasuredthuddingandavibrationthatmadeeverythingaboutusquiverandthevesselsinthepantryringandshift,beganandcontinued.
