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- Герберт Уеллс
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- Война миров
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- Стр. 52/99
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The
man
who
escaped
at
the
former
place
tells
a
wonderful
story
of
the
strangeness
of
its
coiling
flow
,
and
how
he
looked
down
from
the
church
spire
and
saw
the
houses
of
the
village
rising
like
ghosts
out
of
its
inky
nothingness
.
For
a
day
and
a
half
he
remained
there
,
weary
,
starving
and
sun-scorched
,
the
earth
under
the
blue
sky
and
against
the
prospect
of
the
distant
hills
a
velvet-black
expanse
,
with
red
roofs
,
green
trees
,
and
,
later
,
black-veiled
shrubs
and
gates
,
barns
,
outhouses
,
and
walls
,
rising
here
and
there
into
the
sunlight
.
But
that
was
at
Street
Cobham
,
where
the
black
vapour
was
allowed
to
remain
until
it
sank
of
its
own
accord
into
the
ground
.
As
a
rule
the
Martians
,
when
it
had
served
its
purpose
,
cleared
the
air
of
it
again
by
wading
into
it
and
directing
a
jet
of
steam
upon
it
.
This
they
did
with
the
vapour
banks
near
us
,
as
we
saw
in
the
starlight
from
the
window
of
a
deserted
house
at
Upper
Halliford
,
whither
we
had
returned
.
From
there
we
could
see
the
searchlights
on
Richmond
Hill
and
Kingston
Hill
going
to
and
fro
,
and
about
eleven
the
windows
rattled
,
and
we
heard
the
sound
of
the
huge
siege
guns
that
had
been
put
in
position
there
.
These
continued
intermittently
for
the
space
of
a
quarter
of
an
hour
,
sending
chance
shots
at
the
invisible
Martians
at
Hampton
and
Ditton
,
and
then
the
pale
beams
of
the
electric
light
vanished
,
and
were
replaced
by
a
bright
red
glow
.
Then
the
fourth
cylinder
fell
--
a
brilliant
green
meteor
--
as
I
learned
afterwards
,
in
Bushey
Park
.
Before
the
guns
on
the
Richmond
and
Kingston
line
of
hills
began
,
there
was
a
fitful
cannonade
far
away
in
the
southwest
,
due
,
I
believe
,
to
guns
being
fired
haphazard
before
the
black
vapour
could
overwhelm
the
gunners
.
So
,
setting
about
it
as
methodically
as
men
might
smoke
out
a
wasps
'
nest
,
the
Martians
spread
this
strange
stifling
vapour
over
the
Londonward
country
.
The
horns
of
the
crescent
slowly
moved
apart
,
until
at
last
they
formed
a
line
from
Hanwell
to
Coombe
and
Malden
.
All
night
through
their
destructive
tubes
advanced
.
Never
once
,
after
the
Martian
at
St.
George
's
Hill
was
brought
down
,
did
they
give
the
artillery
the
ghost
of
a
chance
against
them
.
Wherever
there
was
a
possibility
of
guns
being
laid
for
them
unseen
,
a
fresh
canister
of
the
black
vapour
was
discharged
,
and
where
the
guns
were
openly
displayed
the
Heat-Ray
was
brought
to
bear
.
By
midnight
the
blazing
trees
along
the
slopes
of
Richmond
Park
and
the
glare
of
Kingston
Hill
threw
their
light
upon
a
network
of
black
smoke
,
blotting
out
the
whole
valley
of
the
Thames
and
extending
as
far
as
the
eye
could
reach
.
And
through
this
two
Martians
slowly
waded
,
and
turned
their
hissing
steam
jets
this
way
and
that
.
They
were
sparing
of
the
Heat-Ray
that
night
,
either
because
they
had
but
a
limited
supply
of
material
for
its
production
or
because
they
did
not
wish
to
destroy
the
country
but
only
to
crush
and
overawe
the
opposition
they
had
aroused
.
In
the
latter
aim
they
certainly
succeeded
.
Sunday
night
was
the
end
of
the
organised
opposition
to
their
movements
.
After
that
no
body
of
men
would
stand
against
them
,
so
hopeless
was
the
enterprise
.
Even
the
crews
of
the
torpedo-boats
and
destroyers
that
had
brought
their
quick-firers
up
the
Thames
refused
to
stop
,
mutinied
,
and
went
down
again
.
The
only
offensive
operation
men
ventured
upon
after
that
night
was
the
preparation
of
mines
and
pitfalls
,
and
even
in
that
their
energies
were
frantic
and
spasmodic
.
One
has
to
imagine
,
as
well
as
one
may
,
the
fate
of
those
batteries
towards
Esher
,
waiting
so
tensely
in
the
twilight
.
Survivors
there
were
none
.
One
may
picture
the
orderly
expectation
,
the
officers
alert
and
watchful
,
the
gunners
ready
,
the
ammunition
piled
to
hand
,
the
limber
gunners
with
their
horses
and
waggons
,
the
groups
of
civilian
spectators
standing
as
near
as
they
were
permitted
,
the
evening
stillness
,
the
ambulances
and
hospital
tents
with
the
burned
and
wounded
from
Weybridge
;
then
the
dull
resonance
of
the
shots
the
Martians
fired
,
and
the
clumsy
projectile
whirling
over
the
trees
and
houses
and
smashing
amid
the
neighbouring
fields
.
