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- Герберт Уеллс
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- Война миров
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- Стр. 79/99
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My
first
act
before
I
went
into
the
pantry
was
to
fasten
the
door
between
the
kitchen
and
the
scullery
.
But
the
pantry
was
empty
;
every
scrap
of
food
had
gone
.
Apparently
,
the
Martian
had
taken
it
all
on
the
previous
day
.
At
that
discovery
I
despaired
for
the
first
time
.
I
took
no
food
,
or
no
drink
either
,
on
the
eleventh
or
the
twelfth
day
.
At
first
my
mouth
and
throat
were
parched
,
and
my
strength
ebbed
sensibly
.
I
sat
about
in
the
darkness
of
the
scullery
,
in
a
state
of
despondent
wretchedness
.
My
mind
ran
on
eating
.
I
thought
I
had
become
deaf
,
for
the
noises
of
movement
I
had
been
accustomed
to
hear
from
the
pit
had
ceased
absolutely
.
I
did
not
feel
strong
enough
to
crawl
noiselessly
to
the
peephole
,
or
I
would
have
gone
there
.
On
the
twelfth
day
my
throat
was
so
painful
that
,
taking
the
chance
of
alarming
the
Martians
,
I
attacked
the
creaking
rain-water
pump
that
stood
by
the
sink
,
and
got
a
couple
of
glassfuls
of
blackened
and
tainted
rain
water
.
I
was
greatly
refreshed
by
this
,
and
emboldened
by
the
fact
that
no
enquiring
tentacle
followed
the
noise
of
my
pumping
.
During
these
days
,
in
a
rambling
,
inconclusive
way
,
I
thought
much
of
the
curate
and
of
the
manner
of
his
death
.
On
the
thirteenth
day
I
drank
some
more
water
,
and
dozed
and
thought
disjointedly
of
eating
and
of
vague
impossible
plans
of
escape
.
Whenever
I
dozed
I
dreamt
of
horrible
phantasms
,
of
the
death
of
the
curate
,
or
of
sumptuous
dinners
;
but
,
asleep
or
awake
,
I
felt
a
keen
pain
that
urged
me
to
drink
again
and
again
.
The
light
that
came
into
the
scullery
was
no
longer
grey
,
but
red
.
To
my
disordered
imagination
it
seemed
the
colour
of
blood
.
On
the
fourteenth
day
I
went
into
the
kitchen
,
and
I
was
surprised
to
find
that
the
fronds
of
the
red
weed
had
grown
right
across
the
hole
in
the
wall
,
turning
the
half-light
of
the
place
into
a
crimson-coloured
obscurity
.
It
was
early
on
the
fifteenth
day
that
I
heard
a
curious
,
familiar
sequence
of
sounds
in
the
kitchen
,
and
,
listening
,
identified
it
as
the
snuffing
and
scratching
of
a
dog
.
Going
into
the
kitchen
,
I
saw
a
dog
's
nose
peering
in
through
a
break
among
the
ruddy
fronds
.
This
greatly
surprised
me
.
At
the
scent
of
me
he
barked
shortly
.
I
thought
if
I
could
induce
him
to
come
into
the
place
quietly
I
should
be
able
,
perhaps
,
to
kill
and
eat
him
;
and
in
any
case
,
it
would
be
advisable
to
kill
him
,
lest
his
actions
attracted
the
attention
of
the
Martians
.
I
crept
forward
,
saying
"
Good
dog
!
"
very
softly
;
but
he
suddenly
withdrew
his
head
and
disappeared
.
I
listened
--
I
was
not
deaf
--
but
certainly
the
pit
was
still
.
I
heard
a
sound
like
the
flutter
of
a
bird
's
wings
,
and
a
hoarse
croaking
,
but
that
was
all
.
