Война миров/War of the Worlds (Герберт Уеллс). Страница 77 из 99

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"

Shut

up

!

"

I

said

,

rising

to

my

feet

,

and

in

a

terror

lest

the

Martians

should

hear

us

.

"

For

God

's

sake

--

--

"

"

Nay

,

"

shouted

the

curate

,

at

the

top

of

his

voice

,

standing

likewise

and

extending

his

arms

.

"

Speak

!

The

word

of

the

Lord

is

upon

me

!

"

In

three

strides

he

was

at

the

door

leading

into

the

kitchen

.

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"

I

must

bear

my

witness

!

I

go

!

It

has

already

been

too

long

delayed

.

"

I

put

out

my

hand

and

felt

the

meat

chopper

hanging

to

the

wall

.

In

a

flash

I

was

after

him

.

I

was

fierce

with

fear

.

Before

he

was

halfway

across

the

kitchen

I

had

overtaken

him

.

With

one

last

touch

of

humanity

I

turned

the

blade

back

and

struck

him

with

the

butt

.

He

went

headlong

forward

and

lay

stretched

on

the

ground

.

I

stumbled

over

him

and

stood

panting

.

He

lay

still

.

Suddenly

I

heard

a

noise

without

,

the

run

and

smash

of

slipping

plaster

,

and

the

triangular

aperture

in

the

wall

was

darkened

.

I

looked

up

and

saw

the

lower

surface

of

a

handling-machine

coming

slowly

across

the

hole

.

One

of

its

gripping

limbs

curled

amid

the

debris

;

another

limb

appeared

,

feeling

its

way

over

the

fallen

beams

.

I

stood

petrified

,

staring

.

Then

I

saw

through

a

sort

of

glass

plate

near

the

edge

of

the

body

the

face

,

as

we

may

call

it

,

and

the

large

dark

eyes

of

a

Martian

,

peering

,

and

then

a

long

metallic

snake

of

tentacle

came

feeling

slowly

through

the

hole

.

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I

turned

by

an

effort

,

stumbled

over

the

curate

,

and

stopped

at

the

scullery

door

.

The

tentacle

was

now

some

way

,

two

yards

or

more

,

in

the

room

,

and

twisting

and

turning

,

with

queer

sudden

movements

,

this

way

and

that

.

For

a

while

I

stood

fascinated

by

that

slow

,

fitful

advance

.

Then

,

with

a

faint

,

hoarse

cry

,

I

forced

myself

across

the

scullery

.

I

trembled

violently

;

I

could

scarcely

stand

upright

.

I

opened

the

door

of

the

coal

cellar

,

and

stood

there

in

the

darkness

staring

at

the

faintly

lit

doorway

into

the

kitchen

,

and

listening

.

Had

the

Martian

seen

me

?

What

was

it

doing

now

?

Something

was

moving

to

and

fro

there

,

very

quietly

;

every

now

and

then

it

tapped

against

the

wall

,

or

started

on

its

movements

with

a

faint

metallic

ringing

,

like

the

movements

of

keys

on

a

split-ring

.

Then

a

heavy

body

--

I

knew

too

well

what

--

was

dragged

across

the

floor

of

the

kitchen

towards

the

opening

.

Irresistibly

attracted

,

I

crept

to

the

door

and

peeped

into

the

kitchen

.

In

the

triangle

of

bright

outer

sunlight

I

saw

the

Martian

,

in

its

Briareus

of

a

handling-machine

,

scrutinizing

the

curate

's

head

.

I

thought

at

once

that

it

would

infer

my

presence

from

the

mark

of

the

blow

I

had

given

him

.

I

crept

back

to

the

coal

cellar

,

shut

the

door

,

and

began

to

cover

myself

up

as

much

as

I

could

,

and

as

noiselessly

as

possible

in

the

darkness

,

among

the

firewood

and

coal

therein

.

Every

now

and

then

I

paused

,

rigid

,

to

hear

if

the

Martian

had

thrust

its

tentacles

through

the

opening

again

.

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