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At
the
same
time
four
of
their
fighting
machines
,
similarly
armed
with
tubes
,
crossed
the
river
,
and
two
of
them
,
black
against
the
western
sky
,
came
into
sight
of
myself
and
the
curate
as
we
hurried
wearily
and
painfully
along
the
road
that
runs
northward
out
of
Halliford
.
They
moved
,
as
it
seemed
to
us
,
upon
a
cloud
,
for
a
milky
mist
covered
the
fields
and
rose
to
a
third
of
their
height
.
At
this
sight
the
curate
cried
faintly
in
his
throat
,
and
began
running
;
but
I
knew
it
was
no
good
running
from
a
Martian
,
and
I
turned
aside
and
crawled
through
dewy
nettles
and
brambles
into
the
broad
ditch
by
the
side
of
the
road
.
He
looked
back
,
saw
what
I
was
doing
,
and
turned
to
join
me
.
The
two
halted
,
the
nearer
to
us
standing
and
facing
Sunbury
,
the
remoter
being
a
grey
indistinctness
towards
the
evening
star
,
away
towards
Staines
.
The
occasional
howling
of
the
Martians
had
ceased
;
they
took
up
their
positions
in
the
huge
crescent
about
their
cylinders
in
absolute
silence
.
It
was
a
crescent
with
twelve
miles
between
its
horns
.
Never
since
the
devising
of
gunpowder
was
the
beginning
of
a
battle
so
still
.
To
us
and
to
an
observer
about
Ripley
it
would
have
had
precisely
the
same
effect
--
the
Martians
seemed
in
solitary
possession
of
the
darkling
night
,
lit
only
as
it
was
by
the
slender
moon
,
the
stars
,
the
afterglow
of
the
daylight
,
and
the
ruddy
glare
from
St.
George
's
Hill
and
the
woods
of
Painshill
.
But
facing
that
crescent
everywhere
--
at
Staines
,
Hounslow
,
Ditton
,
Esher
,
Ockham
,
behind
hills
and
woods
south
of
the
river
,
and
across
the
flat
grass
meadows
to
the
north
of
it
,
wherever
a
cluster
of
trees
or
village
houses
gave
sufficient
cover
--
the
guns
were
waiting
.
The
signal
rockets
burst
and
rained
their
sparks
through
the
night
and
vanished
,
and
the
spirit
of
all
those
watching
batteries
rose
to
a
tense
expectation
.
The
Martians
had
but
to
advance
into
the
line
of
fire
,
and
instantly
those
motionless
black
forms
of
men
,
those
guns
glittering
so
darkly
in
the
early
night
,
would
explode
into
a
thunderous
fury
of
battle
.
No
doubt
the
thought
that
was
uppermost
in
a
thousand
of
those
vigilant
minds
,
even
as
it
was
uppermost
in
mine
,
was
the
riddle
--
how
much
they
understood
of
us
.
Did
they
grasp
that
we
in
our
millions
were
organized
,
disciplined
,
working
together
?
Or
did
they
interpret
our
spurts
of
fire
,
the
sudden
stinging
of
our
shells
,
our
steady
investment
of
their
encampment
,
as
we
should
the
furious
unanimity
of
onslaught
in
a
disturbed
hive
of
bees
?
Did
they
dream
they
might
exterminate
us
?
(
At
that
time
no
one
knew
what
food
they
needed
.
)
A
hundred
such
questions
struggled
together
in
my
mind
as
I
watched
that
vast
sentinel
shape
.
And
in
the
back
of
my
mind
was
the
sense
of
all
the
huge
unknown
and
hidden
forces
Londonward
.
Had
they
prepared
pitfalls
?
Were
the
powder
mills
at
Hounslow
ready
as
a
snare
?
Would
the
Londoners
have
the
heart
and
courage
to
make
a
greater
Moscow
of
their
mighty
province
of
houses
?
Then
,
after
an
interminable
time
,
as
it
seemed
to
us
,
crouching
and
peering
through
the
hedge
,
came
a
sound
like
the
distant
concussion
of
a
gun
.
Another
nearer
,
and
then
another
.
And
then
the
Martian
beside
us
raised
his
tube
on
high
and
discharged
it
,
gunwise
,
with
a
heavy
report
that
made
the
ground
heave
.
The
one
towards
Staines
answered
him
.
There
was
no
flash
,
no
smoke
,
simply
that
loaded
detonation
.
I
was
so
excited
by
these
heavy
minute-guns
following
one
another
that
I
so
far
forgot
my
personal
safety
and
my
scalded
hands
as
to
clamber
up
into
the
hedge
and
stare
towards
Sunbury
.
As
I
did
so
a
second
report
followed
,
and
a
big
projectile
hurtled
overhead
towards
Hounslow
.
I
expected
at
least
to
see
smoke
or
fire
,
or
some
such
evidence
of
its
work
.
But
all
I
saw
was
the
deep
blue
sky
above
,
with
one
solitary
star
,
and
the
white
mist
spreading
wide
and
low
beneath
.
And
there
had
been
no
crash
,
no
answering
explosion
.
The
silence
was
restored
;
the
minute
lengthened
to
three
.
