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1"I have been still too long," he said, in a tone that must have reached the pit, "and now I must bear my witness. Woe
2unto this unfaithful city! Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe! To the inhabitants of the earth by reason of the other voices of the
3trumpet----" "Shut up!" I said, rising to my feet, and in a terror lest the Martians should hear us. "For God's
4sake----" "Nay," shouted the curate, at the top of his voice, standing likewise and extending his arms. "Speak! The word
5of the Lord is upon me!" In three strides he was at the door leading into the kitchen. "I must bear my witness! I go! It
6has already been too long delayed." I put out my hand and felt the meat chopper hanging to the wall. In a flash I was
7after him. I was fierce with fear. Before he was halfway across the kitchen I had overtaken him. With one last touch of
8humanity I turned the blade back and struck him with the butt. He went headlong forward and lay stretched on the ground.
9I stumbled over him and stood panting. He lay still. Suddenly I heard a noise without, the run and smash of slipping
10plaster, and the triangular aperture in the wall was darkened. I looked up and saw the lower surface of a
11handling-machine coming slowly across the hole. One of its gripping limbs curled amid the debris; another limb appeared,
12feeling its way over the fallen beams. I stood petrified, staring. Then I saw through a sort of glass plate near the
13edge of the body the face, as we may call it, and the large dark eyes of a Martian, peering, and then a long metallic
14snake of tentacle came feeling slowly through the hole. I turned by an effort, stumbled over the curate, and stopped at
15the scullery door. The tentacle was now some way, two yards or more, in the room, and twisting and turning, with queer
16sudden movements, this way and that. For a while I stood fascinated by that slow, fitful advance. Then, with a faint,
17hoarse cry, I forced myself across the scullery. I trembled violently; I could scarcely stand upright. I opened the door
18of the coal cellar, and stood there in the darkness staring at the faintly lit doorway into the kitchen, and listening.
19Had the Martian seen me? What was it doing now? Something was moving to and fro there, very quietly; every now and then
20it tapped against the wall, or started on its movements with a faint metallic ringing, like the movements of keys on a
21split-ring. Then a heavy body--I knew too well what--was dragged across the floor of the kitchen towards the opening.
22Irresistibly attracted, I crept to the door and peeped into the kitchen. In the triangle of bright outer sunlight I saw
23the Martian, in its Briareus of a handling-machine, scrutinizing the curate's head. I thought at once that it would
24infer my presence from the mark of the blow I had given him. I crept back to the coal cellar, shut the door, and began
25to cover myself up as much as I could, and as noiselessly as possible in the darkness, among the firewood and coal
26therein. Every now and then I paused, rigid, to hear if the Martian had thrust its tentacles through the opening again.
27Then the faint metallic jingle returned. I traced it slowly feeling over the kitchen. Presently I heard it nearer--in
28the scullery, as I judged. I thought that its length might be insufficient to reach me. I prayed copiously. It passed,
29scraping faintly across the cellar door. An age of almost intolerable suspense intervened; then I heard it fumbling at
30the latch! It had found the door! The Martians understood doors! It worried at the catch for a minute, perhaps, and then
31the door opened. In the darkness I could just see the thing--like an elephant's trunk more than anything else--waving
32towards me and touching and examining the wall, coals, wood and ceiling. It was like a black worm swaying its blind head
33to and fro. Once, even, it touched the heel of my boot. I was on the verge of screaming; I bit my hand. For a time the
34tentacle was silent. I could have fancied it had been withdrawn. Presently, with an abrupt click, it gripped
35something--I thought it had me!--and seemed to go out of the cellar again. For a minute I was not sure. Apparently it
36had taken a lump of coal to examine. I seized the opportunity of slightly shifting my position, which had become
37cramped, and then listened. I whispered passionate prayers for safety. Then I heard the slow, deliberate sound creeping
38towards me again. Slowly, slowly it drew near, scratching against the walls and tapping the furniture. While I was still
39doubtful, it rapped smartly against the cellar door and closed it. I heard it go into the pantry, and the biscuit-tins
40rattled and a bottle smashed, and then came a heavy bump against the cellar door. Then silence that passed into an
41infinity of suspense. Had it gone? At last I decided that it had. It came into the scullery no more; but I lay all the
42tenth day in the close darkness, buried among coals and firewood, not daring even to crawl out for the drink for which I
43craved. It was the eleventh day before I ventured so far from my security. V. THE STILLNESS. My first act before I went
44into the pantry was to fasten the door between the kitchen and the scullery. But the pantry was empty; every scrap of
45food had gone. Apparently, the Martian had taken it all on the previous day. At that discovery I despaired for the first
46time. I took no food, or no drink either, on the eleventh or the twelfth day. At first my mouth and throat were parched,
47and my strength ebbed sensibly. I sat about in the darkness of the scullery, in a state of despondent wretchedness. My
48mind ran on eating. I thought I had become deaf, for the noises of movement I had been accustomed to hear from the pit
49had ceased absolutely. I did not feel strong enough to crawl noiselessly to the peephole, or I would have gone there. On
50the twelfth day my throat was so painful that, taking the chance of alarming the Martians, I attacked the creaking
51rain-water pump that stood by the sink, and got a couple of glassfuls of blackened and tainted rain water. I was greatly
52refreshed by this, and emboldened by the fact that no enquiring tentacle followed the noise of my pumping. During these
53days, in a rambling, inconclusive way, I thought much of the curate and of the manner of his death. On the thirteenth
54day I drank some more water, and dozed and thought disjointedly of eating and of vague impossible plans of escape.
55Whenever I dozed I dreamt of horrible phantasms, of the death of the curate, or of sumptuous dinners; but, asleep or
56awake, I felt a keen pain that urged me to drink again and again. The light that came into the scullery was no longer
57grey, but red. To my disordered imagination it seemed the colour of blood. On the fourteenth day I went into the
58kitchen, and I was surprised to find that the fronds of the red weed had grown right across the hole in the wall,
59turning the half-light of the place into a crimson-coloured obscurity. It was early on the fifteenth day that I heard a
60curious, familiar sequence of sounds in the kitchen, and, listening, identified it as the snuffing and scratching of a
61dog. Going into the kitchen, I saw a dog's nose peering in through a break among the ruddy fronds. This greatly
62surprised me. At the scent of me he barked shortly. I thought if I could induce him to come into the place quietly I
63should be able, perhaps, to kill and eat him; and in any case, it would be advisable to kill him, lest his actions
64attracted the attention of the Martians. I crept forward, saying "Good dog!" very softly; but he suddenly withdrew his
65head and disappeared. I listened--I was not deaf--but certainly the pit was still. I heard a sound like the flutter of a
66bird's wings, and a hoarse croaking, but that was all. For a long while I lay close to the peephole, but not daring to
67move aside the red plants that obscured it. Once or twice I heard a faint pitter-patter like the feet of the dog going
68hither and thither on the sand far below me, and there were more birdlike sounds, but that was all. At length,
69encouraged by the silence, I looked out.
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