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The Days of Imprisonment
Icouldseehisstaringeyesandgleamsoflightonhisstudsandwatchchain. Hevanishedbehindthemound,andforamomenttherewassilence. AndthenbeganashriekingandasustainedandcheerfulhootingfromtheMartians.
Isliddowntherubbish,struggledtomyfeet,clappedmyhandsovermyears,andboltedintothescullery. Thecurate,whohadbeencrouchingsilentlywithhisarmsoverhishead,lookedupasIpassed,criedoutquiteloudlyatmydesertionofhim,andcamerunningafterme.
Thatnight,aswelurkedinthescullery,balancedbetweenourhorrorandtheterriblefascinationthispeepinghad,althoughIfeltanurgentneedofactionItriedinvaintoconceivesomeplanofescape; butafterwards,duringthesecondday,Iwasabletoconsiderourpositionwithgreatclearness. Thecurate,Ifound,wasquiteincapableofdiscussion;thisnewandculminatingatrocityhadrobbedhimofallvestigesofreasonorforethought. Practicallyhehadalreadysunktothelevelofananimal. Butasthesayinggoes,Igrippedmyselfwithbothhands. Itgrewuponmymind,onceIcouldfacethefacts,thatterribleasourpositionwas,therewasasyetnojustificationforabsolutedespair. OurchiefchancelayinthepossibilityoftheMartiansmakingthepitnothingmorethanatemporaryencampment. Oreveniftheykeptitpermanently,theymightnotconsideritnecessarytoguardit,andachanceofescapemightbeaffordedus. Ialsoweighedverycarefullythepossibilityofourdiggingawayoutinadirectionawayfromthepit,butthechancesofouremergingwithinsightofsomesentinelfighting-machineseemedatfirsttoogreat. AndIshouldhavehadtodoallthediggingmyself. Thecuratewouldcertainlyhavefailedme.