What We Saw From the Ruined House

           Aftereatingwecreptbacktothescullery,andthereImusthavedozedagain,forwhenpresentlyIlookedroundIwasalone. Thethuddingvibrationcontinuedwithwearisomepersistence. Iwhisperedforthecurateseveraltimes,andatlastfeltmywaytothedoorofthekitchen. Itwasstilldaylight,andIperceivedhimacrosstheroom,lyingagainstthetriangularholethatlookedoutupontheMartians. Hisshoulderswerehunched,sothathisheadwashiddenfromme. 

           Icouldhearanumberofnoisesalmostlikethoseinanengineshed;andtheplacerockedwiththatbeatingthud. ThroughtheapertureinthewallIcouldseethetopofatreetouchedwithgoldandthewarmblueofatranquileveningsky. ForaminuteorsoIremainedwatchingthecurate,andthenIadvanced,crouchingandsteppingwithextremecareamidthebrokencrockerythatlitteredthefloor. 

           Itouchedthecurate’sleg,andhestartedsoviolentlythatamassofplasterwentslidingdownoutsideandfellwithaloudimpact. Igrippedhisarm,fearinghemightcryout,andforalongtimewecrouchedmotionless. ThenIturnedtoseehowmuchofourrampartremained. Thedetachmentoftheplasterhadleftaverticalslitopeninthedebris,andbyraisingmyselfcautiouslyacrossabeamIwasabletoseeoutofthisgapintowhathadbeenovernightaquietsuburbanroadway. Vast,indeed,wasthechangethatwebeheld. 

           Thefifthcylindermusthavefallenrightintothemidstofthehousewehadfirstvisited. Thebuildinghadvanished,completelysmashed,pulverised,anddispersedbytheblow. Thecylinderlaynowfarbeneaththeoriginalfoundations—deepinahole,alreadyvastlylargerthanthepitIhadlookedintoatWoking.