Війна світів
In London
Hethoughtofallthosesilent,expectantguns,ofthesuddenlynomadiccountryside;hetriedtoimagine"boilersonstilts"ahundredfeethigh.
TherewereoneortwocartloadsofrefugeespassingalongOxfordStreet,andseveralintheMaryleboneRoad, butsoslowlywasthenewsspreadingthatRegentStreetandPortlandPlacewerefulloftheirusualSunday-nightpromenaders,albeittheytalkedingroups,andalongtheedgeofRegent’sParktherewereasmanysilentcouples"walkingout"togetherunderthescatteredgaslampsasevertherehadbeen. Thenightwaswarmandstill,andalittleoppressive; thesoundofgunscontinuedintermittently,andaftermidnightthereseemedtobesheetlightninginthesouth.
Hereadandre-readthepaper,fearingtheworsthadhappenedtome. Hewasrestless,andaftersupperprowledoutagainaimlessly. Hereturnedandtriedinvaintodiverthisattentiontohisexaminationnotes. Hewenttobedalittleaftermidnight,andwasawakenedfromluriddreamsinthesmallhoursofMondaybythesoundofdoorknockers,feetrunninginthestreet,distantdrumming,andaclamourofbells. Redreflectionsdancedontheceiling. Foramomenthelayastonished,wonderingwhetherdayhadcomeortheworldgonemad. Thenhejumpedoutofbedandrantothewindow.
Hisroomwasanatticandashethrusthisheadout,upanddownthestreettherewereadozenechoestothenoiseofhiswindowsash,andheadsineverykindofnightdisarrayappeared. Enquirieswerebeingshouted. "Theyarecoming!"bawledapoliceman,hammeringatthedoor; "theMartiansarecoming!"andhurriedtothenextdoor.
