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The Fighting Begins

           Thepinnacleofthemosquehadvanished,andtherooflineofthecollegeitselflookedasifahundred-tongunhadbeenatworkuponit. Oneofourchimneyscrackedasifashothadhitit,flew,andapieceofitcameclatteringdownthetilesandmadeaheapofbrokenredfragmentsupontheflowerbedbymystudywindow. 

           Iandmywifestoodamazed. ThenIrealisedthatthecrestofMayburyHillmustbewithinrangeoftheMartians’Heat-Raynowthatthecollegewasclearedoutoftheway. 

           AtthatIgrippedmywife’sarm,andwithoutceremonyranheroutintotheroad. ThenIfetchedouttheservant,tellingherIwouldgoupstairsmyselffortheboxshewasclamouringfor. 

           "Wecan’tpossiblystayhere,"Isaid; andasIspokethefiringreopenedforamomentuponthecommon. 

           "Butwherearewetogo?"saidmywifeinterror. 

           Ithoughtperplexed.ThenIrememberedhercousinsatLeatherhead. 

           "Leatherhead!"Ishoutedabovethesuddennoise. 

           Shelookedawayfrommedownhill. Thepeoplewerecomingoutoftheirhouses,astonished. 

           "HowarewetogettoLeatherhead?"shesaid. 

           DownthehillIsawabevyofhussarsrideundertherailwaybridge; threegallopedthroughtheopengatesoftheOrientalCollege; twoothersdismounted,andbeganrunningfromhousetohouse. 

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Roboto Lora
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