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- Герберт Уеллс
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- Война миров
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- Стр. 68/99
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We
then
crossed
to
a
place
where
the
road
turns
towards
Mortlake
.
Here
there
stood
a
white
house
within
a
walled
garden
,
and
in
the
pantry
of
this
domicile
we
found
a
store
of
food
--
two
loaves
of
bread
in
a
pan
,
an
uncooked
steak
,
and
the
half
of
a
ham
.
I
give
this
catalogue
so
precisely
because
,
as
it
happened
,
we
were
destined
to
subsist
upon
this
store
for
the
next
fortnight
.
Bottled
beer
stood
under
a
shelf
,
and
there
were
two
bags
of
haricot
beans
and
some
limp
lettuces
.
This
pantry
opened
into
a
kind
of
wash-up
kitchen
,
and
in
this
was
firewood
;
there
was
also
a
cupboard
,
in
which
we
found
nearly
a
dozen
of
burgundy
,
tinned
soups
and
salmon
,
and
two
tins
of
biscuits
.
We
sat
in
the
adjacent
kitchen
in
the
dark
--
for
we
dared
not
strike
a
light
--
and
ate
bread
and
ham
,
and
drank
beer
out
of
the
same
bottle
.
The
curate
,
who
was
still
timorous
and
restless
,
was
now
,
oddly
enough
,
for
pushing
on
,
and
I
was
urging
him
to
keep
up
his
strength
by
eating
when
the
thing
happened
that
was
to
imprison
us
.
"
It
ca
n't
be
midnight
yet
,
"
I
said
,
and
then
came
a
blinding
glare
of
vivid
green
light
.
Everything
in
the
kitchen
leaped
out
,
clearly
visible
in
green
and
black
,
and
vanished
again
.
And
then
followed
such
a
concussion
as
I
have
never
heard
before
or
since
.
So
close
on
the
heels
of
this
as
to
seem
instantaneous
came
a
thud
behind
me
,
a
clash
of
glass
,
a
crash
and
rattle
of
falling
masonry
all
about
us
,
and
the
plaster
of
the
ceiling
came
down
upon
us
,
smashing
into
a
multitude
of
fragments
upon
our
heads
.
I
was
knocked
headlong
across
the
floor
against
the
oven
handle
and
stunned
.
I
was
insensible
for
a
long
time
,
the
curate
told
me
,
and
when
I
came
to
we
were
in
darkness
again
,
and
he
,
with
a
face
wet
,
as
I
found
afterwards
,
with
blood
from
a
cut
forehead
,
was
dabbing
water
over
me
.
For
some
time
I
could
not
recollect
what
had
happened
.
Then
things
came
to
me
slowly
.
A
bruise
on
my
temple
asserted
itself
.
"
Are
you
better
?
"
asked
the
curate
in
a
whisper
.
At
last
I
answered
him
.
I
sat
up
.
"
Do
n't
move
,
"
he
said
.
"
The
floor
is
covered
with
smashed
crockery
from
the
dresser
.
You
ca
n't
possibly
move
without
making
a
noise
,
and
I
fancy
they
are
outside
.
"
We
both
sat
quite
silent
,
so
that
we
could
scarcely
hear
each
other
breathing
.
Everything
seemed
deadly
still
,
but
once
something
near
us
,
some
plaster
or
broken
brickwork
,
slid
down
with
a
rumbling
sound
.
Outside
and
very
near
was
an
intermittent
,
metallic
rattle
.
"
That
!
"
said
the
curate
,
when
presently
it
happened
again
.
"
Yes
,
"
I
said
.
"
But
what
is
it
?
"
