Война миров
How I Fell in with the Curate
"Hope!"
"Yes.Plentifulhope—forallthisdestruction!"
Ibegantoexplainmyviewofourposition. Helistenedatfirst,butasIwentontheinterestdawninginhiseyesgaveplacetotheirformerstare,andhisregardwanderedfromme.
"Thismustbethebeginningoftheend,"hesaid,interruptingme. "Theend! ThegreatandterribledayoftheLord! Whenmenshallcalluponthemountainsandtherockstofalluponthemandhidethem—hidethemfromthefaceofHimthatsittethuponthethrone!"
Ibegantounderstandtheposition. Iceasedmylabouredreasoning,struggledtomyfeet,and,standingoverhim,laidmyhandonhisshoulder.
"Beaman!"saidI. "Youarescaredoutofyourwits! Whatgoodisreligionifitcollapsesundercalamity? Thinkofwhatearthquakesandfloods,warsandvolcanoes,havedonebeforetomen! DidyouthinkGodhadexemptedWeybridge? Heisnotaninsuranceagent."
Foratimehesatinblanksilence.
"Buthowcanweescape?"heasked,suddenly. "Theyareinvulnerable,theyarepitiless."
"Neithertheonenor,perhaps,theother,"Ianswered. "Andthemightiertheyarethemoresaneandwaryshouldwebe. Oneofthemwaskilledyondernotthreehoursago."
"Killed!"hesaid,staringabouthim. "HowcanGod’sministersbekilled?"