Reading Help The Time Machine by H. G. Wells
like a flash. `
` `
` 'Then I stopped the machine, and saw about me again the old familiar `
` laboratory, my tools, my appliances just as I had left them. I got `
` off the thing very shakily, and sat down upon my bench. For several `
` minutes I trembled violently. Then I became calmer. Around me was `
` my old workshop again, exactly as it had been. I might have slept `
` there, and the whole thing have been a dream. `
` `
` 'And yet, not exactly! The thing had started from the south-east `
` corner of the laboratory. It had come to rest again in the `
` north-west, against the wall where you saw it. That gives you the `
` exact distance from my little lawn to the pedestal of the White `
` Sphinx, into which the Morlocks had carried my machine. `
` `
` 'For a time my brain went stagnant. Presently I got up and came `
` through the passage here, limping, because my heel was still `
` painful, and feeling sorely begrimed. I saw the _Pall Mall Gazette_ `
` on the table by the door. I found the date was indeed to-day, and `
` looking at the timepiece, saw the hour was almost eight o'clock. I `
` heard your voices and the clatter of plates. I hesitated--I felt so `
` sick and weak. Then I sniffed good wholesome meat, and opened the `
` door on you. You know the rest. I washed, and dined, and now I am `
` telling you the story. `
` `
` 'I know,' he said, after a pause, 'that all this will be absolutely `
` incredible to you. To me the one incredible thing is that I am here `
` to-night in this old familiar room looking into your friendly faces `
` and telling you these strange adventures.' `
` `
` He looked at the Medical Man. 'No. I cannot expect you to believe `
` it. Take it as a lie--or a prophecy. Say I dreamed it in the `
` workshop. Consider I have been speculating upon the destinies of our `
` race until I have hatched this fiction. Treat my assertion of its `
` truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest. And taking `
` it as a story, what do you think of it?' `
` `
` He took up his pipe, and began, in his old accustomed manner, to tap `
` with it nervously upon the bars of the grate. There was a momentary `
` stillness. Then chairs began to creak and shoes to scrape upon the `
` carpet. I took my eyes off the Time Traveller's face, and looked `
` round at his audience. They were in the dark, and little spots of `
` colour swam before them. The Medical Man seemed absorbed in the `
` contemplation of our host. The Editor was looking hard at the end `
` of his cigar--the sixth. The Journalist fumbled for his watch. The `
` others, as far as I remember, were motionless. `
` `
` The Editor stood up with a sigh. 'What a pity it is you're not `
` a writer of stories!' he said, putting his hand on the Time `
` Traveller's shoulder. `
` `
` 'You don't believe it?' `
` `
` 'Well----' `
` `
` 'I thought not.' `
` `
` The Time Traveller turned to us. 'Where are the matches?' he said. `
` He lit one and spoke over his pipe, puffing. 'To tell you the truth `
` ... I hardly believe it myself.... And yet...' `
` `
` His eye fell with a mute inquiry upon the withered white flowers `
` upon the little table. Then he turned over the hand holding his `
` pipe, and I saw he was looking at some half-healed scars on his `
` knuckles. `
` `
` The Medical Man rose, came to the lamp, and examined the flowers. `
` 'The gynaeceum's odd,' he said. The Psychologist leant forward to `
` see, holding out his hand for a specimen. `
` `
` 'I'm hanged if it isn't a quarter to one,' said the Journalist. `
` 'How shall we get home?' `
` `
` 'Plenty of cabs at the station,' said the Psychologist. `
` `
` 'It's a curious thing,' said the Medical Man; 'but I certainly don't `
` know the natural order of these flowers. May I have them?' `
` `
` The Time Traveller hesitated. Then suddenly: 'Certainly not.' `
` `
` 'Where did you really get them?' said the Medical Man. `
` `
` The Time Traveller put his hand to his head. He spoke like one who `
` was trying to keep hold of an idea that eluded him. 'They were put `
` into my pocket by Weena, when I travelled into Time.' He stared `
` round the room. 'I'm damned if it isn't all going. This room and you `
` and the atmosphere of every day is too much for my memory. Did I `
` ever make a Time Machine, or a model of a Time Machine? Or is it all `
` only a dream? They say life is a dream, a precious poor dream at `
` times--but I can't stand another that won't fit. It's madness. And `
` where did the dream come from? ... I must look at that machine. If `
` there is one!' `
` `
` He caught up the lamp swiftly, and carried it, flaring red, through `
` the door into the corridor. We followed him. There in the flickering `
` light of the lamp was the machine sure enough, squat, ugly, and `
` askew; a thing of brass, ebony, ivory, and translucent glimmering `
` quartz. Solid to the touch--for I put out my hand and felt the rail `
` of it--and with brown spots and smears upon the ivory, and bits of `
` grass and moss upon the lower parts, and one rail bent awry. `
` `
` The Time Traveller put the lamp down on the bench, and ran his hand `
` along the damaged rail. 'It's all right now,' he said. 'The story I `
` told you was true. I'm sorry to have brought you out here in the `
` cold.' He took up the lamp, and, in an absolute silence, we `
` returned to the smoking-room. `
` `
` He came into the hall with us and helped the Editor on with his `
` coat. The Medical Man looked into his face and, with a certain `
` hesitation, told him he was suffering from overwork, at which he `
` laughed hugely. I remember him standing in the open doorway, bawling `
` good night. `
` `
` I shared a cab with the Editor. He thought the tale a 'gaudy lie.' `
` For my own part I was unable to come to a conclusion. The story was `
` so fantastic and incredible, the telling so credible and sober. I `
` lay awake most of the night thinking about it. I determined to go `
` next day and see the Time Traveller again. I was told he was in the `
` laboratory, and being on easy terms in the house, I went up to him. `
` The laboratory, however, was empty. I stared for a minute at the `
` Time Machine and put out my hand and touched the lever. At that the `
` squat substantial-looking mass swayed like a bough shaken by the `
` wind. Its instability startled me extremely, and I had a queer `
` reminiscence of the childish days when I used to be forbidden to `
` meddle. I came back through the corridor. The Time Traveller met me `
` in the smoking-room. He was coming from the house. He had a small `
` camera under one arm and a knapsack under the other. He laughed when `
` he saw me, and gave me an elbow to shake. 'I'm frightfully busy,' `
` said he, 'with that thing in there.' `
` `
` 'But is it not some hoax?' I said. 'Do you really travel through `
` time?' `
` `
` 'Really and truly I do.' And he looked frankly into my eyes. He `
` hesitated. His eye wandered about the room. 'I only want half an `
` hour,' he said. 'I know why you came, and it's awfully good of you. `
` There's some magazines here. If you'll stop to lunch I'll prove you `
` this time travelling up to the hilt, specimen and all. If you'll `
` forgive my leaving you now?' `
` `
` I consented, hardly comprehending then the full import of his words, `
` and he nodded and went on down the corridor. I heard the door of `
` the laboratory slam, seated myself in a chair, and took up a daily `
` paper. What was he going to do before lunch-time? Then suddenly `
` I was reminded by an advertisement that I had promised to meet `
` Richardson, the publisher, at two. I looked at my watch, and saw `
` that I could barely save that engagement. I got up and went down the `
` passage to tell the Time Traveller. `
` `
` As I took hold of the handle of the door I heard an exclamation, `
` oddly truncated at the end, and a click and a thud. A gust of air `
` whirled round me as I opened the door, and from within came the `
` sound of broken glass falling on the floor. The Time Traveller was `
` not there. I seemed to see a ghostly, indistinct figure sitting in `
` a whirling mass of black and brass for a moment--a figure so `
` transparent that the bench behind with its sheets of drawings was `
` absolutely distinct; but this phantasm vanished as I rubbed my eyes. `
` The Time Machine had gone. Save for a subsiding stir of dust, the `
` further end of the laboratory was empty. A pane of the skylight had, `
` apparently, just been blown in. `
` `
` I felt an unreasonable amazement. I knew that something strange had `
` happened, and for the moment could not distinguish what the strange `
` thing might be. As I stood staring, the door into the garden opened, `
` and the man-servant appeared. `
` `
` We looked at each other. Then ideas began to come. 'Has Mr. ---- `
` gone out that way?' said I. `
` `
` 'No, sir. No one has come out this way. I was expecting to find him `
` here.' `
` `
` At that I understood. At the risk of disappointing Richardson I `
` stayed on, waiting for the Time Traveller; waiting for the second, `
` perhaps still stranger story, and the specimens and photographs he `
` would bring with him. But I am beginning now to fear that I must `
` wait a lifetime. The Time Traveller vanished three years ago. And, `
` as everybody knows now, he has never returned. `
` `
` `
` `
` EPILOGUE `
` `
` `
` One cannot choose but wonder. Will he ever return? It may be that he `
` swept back into the past, and fell among the blood-drinking, hairy `
` savages of the Age of Unpolished Stone; into the abysses of the `
` Cretaceous Sea; or among the grotesque saurians, the huge reptilian `
` brutes of the Jurassic times. He may even now--if I may use the `
` phrase--be wandering on some plesiosaurus-haunted Oolitic coral `
` reef, or beside the lonely saline lakes of the Triassic Age. Or did `
` he go forward, into one of the nearer ages, in which men are still `
` men, but with the riddles of our own time answered and its wearisome `
` problems solved? Into the manhood of the race: for I, for my own `
` part, cannot think that these latter days of weak experiment, `
` fragmentary theory, and mutual discord are indeed man's culminating `
` time! I say, for my own part. He, I know--for the question had been `
` discussed among us long before the Time Machine was made--thought `
` but cheerlessly of the Advancement of Mankind, and saw in the `
` growing pile of civilization only a foolish heaping that must `
` inevitably fall back upon and destroy its makers in the end. If that `
`
` `
` 'Then I stopped the machine, and saw about me again the old familiar `
` laboratory, my tools, my appliances just as I had left them. I got `
` off the thing very shakily, and sat down upon my bench. For several `
` minutes I trembled violently. Then I became calmer. Around me was `
` my old workshop again, exactly as it had been. I might have slept `
` there, and the whole thing have been a dream. `
` `
` 'And yet, not exactly! The thing had started from the south-east `
` corner of the laboratory. It had come to rest again in the `
` north-west, against the wall where you saw it. That gives you the `
` exact distance from my little lawn to the pedestal of the White `
` Sphinx, into which the Morlocks had carried my machine. `
` `
` 'For a time my brain went stagnant. Presently I got up and came `
` through the passage here, limping, because my heel was still `
` painful, and feeling sorely begrimed. I saw the _Pall Mall Gazette_ `
` on the table by the door. I found the date was indeed to-day, and `
` looking at the timepiece, saw the hour was almost eight o'clock. I `
` heard your voices and the clatter of plates. I hesitated--I felt so `
` sick and weak. Then I sniffed good wholesome meat, and opened the `
` door on you. You know the rest. I washed, and dined, and now I am `
` telling you the story. `
` `
` 'I know,' he said, after a pause, 'that all this will be absolutely `
` incredible to you. To me the one incredible thing is that I am here `
` to-night in this old familiar room looking into your friendly faces `
` and telling you these strange adventures.' `
` `
` He looked at the Medical Man. 'No. I cannot expect you to believe `
` it. Take it as a lie--or a prophecy. Say I dreamed it in the `
` workshop. Consider I have been speculating upon the destinies of our `
` race until I have hatched this fiction. Treat my assertion of its `
` truth as a mere stroke of art to enhance its interest. And taking `
` it as a story, what do you think of it?' `
` `
` He took up his pipe, and began, in his old accustomed manner, to tap `
` with it nervously upon the bars of the grate. There was a momentary `
` stillness. Then chairs began to creak and shoes to scrape upon the `
` carpet. I took my eyes off the Time Traveller's face, and looked `
` round at his audience. They were in the dark, and little spots of `
` colour swam before them. The Medical Man seemed absorbed in the `
` contemplation of our host. The Editor was looking hard at the end `
` of his cigar--the sixth. The Journalist fumbled for his watch. The `
` others, as far as I remember, were motionless. `
` `
` The Editor stood up with a sigh. 'What a pity it is you're not `
` a writer of stories!' he said, putting his hand on the Time `
` Traveller's shoulder. `
` `
` 'You don't believe it?' `
` `
` 'Well----' `
` `
` 'I thought not.' `
` `
` The Time Traveller turned to us. 'Where are the matches?' he said. `
` He lit one and spoke over his pipe, puffing. 'To tell you the truth `
` ... I hardly believe it myself.... And yet...' `
` `
` His eye fell with a mute inquiry upon the withered white flowers `
` upon the little table. Then he turned over the hand holding his `
` pipe, and I saw he was looking at some half-healed scars on his `
` knuckles. `
` `
` The Medical Man rose, came to the lamp, and examined the flowers. `
` 'The gynaeceum's odd,' he said. The Psychologist leant forward to `
` see, holding out his hand for a specimen. `
` `
` 'I'm hanged if it isn't a quarter to one,' said the Journalist. `
` 'How shall we get home?' `
` `
` 'Plenty of cabs at the station,' said the Psychologist. `
` `
` 'It's a curious thing,' said the Medical Man; 'but I certainly don't `
` know the natural order of these flowers. May I have them?' `
` `
` The Time Traveller hesitated. Then suddenly: 'Certainly not.' `
` `
` 'Where did you really get them?' said the Medical Man. `
` `
` The Time Traveller put his hand to his head. He spoke like one who `
` was trying to keep hold of an idea that eluded him. 'They were put `
` into my pocket by Weena, when I travelled into Time.' He stared `
` round the room. 'I'm damned if it isn't all going. This room and you `
` and the atmosphere of every day is too much for my memory. Did I `
` ever make a Time Machine, or a model of a Time Machine? Or is it all `
` only a dream? They say life is a dream, a precious poor dream at `
` times--but I can't stand another that won't fit. It's madness. And `
` where did the dream come from? ... I must look at that machine. If `
` there is one!' `
` `
` He caught up the lamp swiftly, and carried it, flaring red, through `
` the door into the corridor. We followed him. There in the flickering `
` light of the lamp was the machine sure enough, squat, ugly, and `
` askew; a thing of brass, ebony, ivory, and translucent glimmering `
` quartz. Solid to the touch--for I put out my hand and felt the rail `
` of it--and with brown spots and smears upon the ivory, and bits of `
` grass and moss upon the lower parts, and one rail bent awry. `
` `
` The Time Traveller put the lamp down on the bench, and ran his hand `
` along the damaged rail. 'It's all right now,' he said. 'The story I `
` told you was true. I'm sorry to have brought you out here in the `
` cold.' He took up the lamp, and, in an absolute silence, we `
` returned to the smoking-room. `
` `
` He came into the hall with us and helped the Editor on with his `
` coat. The Medical Man looked into his face and, with a certain `
` hesitation, told him he was suffering from overwork, at which he `
` laughed hugely. I remember him standing in the open doorway, bawling `
` good night. `
` `
` I shared a cab with the Editor. He thought the tale a 'gaudy lie.' `
` For my own part I was unable to come to a conclusion. The story was `
` so fantastic and incredible, the telling so credible and sober. I `
` lay awake most of the night thinking about it. I determined to go `
` next day and see the Time Traveller again. I was told he was in the `
` laboratory, and being on easy terms in the house, I went up to him. `
` The laboratory, however, was empty. I stared for a minute at the `
` Time Machine and put out my hand and touched the lever. At that the `
` squat substantial-looking mass swayed like a bough shaken by the `
` wind. Its instability startled me extremely, and I had a queer `
` reminiscence of the childish days when I used to be forbidden to `
` meddle. I came back through the corridor. The Time Traveller met me `
` in the smoking-room. He was coming from the house. He had a small `
` camera under one arm and a knapsack under the other. He laughed when `
` he saw me, and gave me an elbow to shake. 'I'm frightfully busy,' `
` said he, 'with that thing in there.' `
` `
` 'But is it not some hoax?' I said. 'Do you really travel through `
` time?' `
` `
` 'Really and truly I do.' And he looked frankly into my eyes. He `
` hesitated. His eye wandered about the room. 'I only want half an `
` hour,' he said. 'I know why you came, and it's awfully good of you. `
` There's some magazines here. If you'll stop to lunch I'll prove you `
` this time travelling up to the hilt, specimen and all. If you'll `
` forgive my leaving you now?' `
` `
` I consented, hardly comprehending then the full import of his words, `
` and he nodded and went on down the corridor. I heard the door of `
` the laboratory slam, seated myself in a chair, and took up a daily `
` paper. What was he going to do before lunch-time? Then suddenly `
` I was reminded by an advertisement that I had promised to meet `
` Richardson, the publisher, at two. I looked at my watch, and saw `
` that I could barely save that engagement. I got up and went down the `
` passage to tell the Time Traveller. `
` `
` As I took hold of the handle of the door I heard an exclamation, `
` oddly truncated at the end, and a click and a thud. A gust of air `
` whirled round me as I opened the door, and from within came the `
` sound of broken glass falling on the floor. The Time Traveller was `
` not there. I seemed to see a ghostly, indistinct figure sitting in `
` a whirling mass of black and brass for a moment--a figure so `
` transparent that the bench behind with its sheets of drawings was `
` absolutely distinct; but this phantasm vanished as I rubbed my eyes. `
` The Time Machine had gone. Save for a subsiding stir of dust, the `
` further end of the laboratory was empty. A pane of the skylight had, `
` apparently, just been blown in. `
` `
` I felt an unreasonable amazement. I knew that something strange had `
` happened, and for the moment could not distinguish what the strange `
` thing might be. As I stood staring, the door into the garden opened, `
` and the man-servant appeared. `
` `
` We looked at each other. Then ideas began to come. 'Has Mr. ---- `
` gone out that way?' said I. `
` `
` 'No, sir. No one has come out this way. I was expecting to find him `
` here.' `
` `
` At that I understood. At the risk of disappointing Richardson I `
` stayed on, waiting for the Time Traveller; waiting for the second, `
` perhaps still stranger story, and the specimens and photographs he `
` would bring with him. But I am beginning now to fear that I must `
` wait a lifetime. The Time Traveller vanished three years ago. And, `
` as everybody knows now, he has never returned. `
` `
` `
` `
` EPILOGUE `
` `
` `
` One cannot choose but wonder. Will he ever return? It may be that he `
` swept back into the past, and fell among the blood-drinking, hairy `
` savages of the Age of Unpolished Stone; into the abysses of the `
` Cretaceous Sea; or among the grotesque saurians, the huge reptilian `
` brutes of the Jurassic times. He may even now--if I may use the `
` phrase--be wandering on some plesiosaurus-haunted Oolitic coral `
` reef, or beside the lonely saline lakes of the Triassic Age. Or did `
` he go forward, into one of the nearer ages, in which men are still `
` men, but with the riddles of our own time answered and its wearisome `
` problems solved? Into the manhood of the race: for I, for my own `
` part, cannot think that these latter days of weak experiment, `
` fragmentary theory, and mutual discord are indeed man's culminating `
` time! I say, for my own part. He, I know--for the question had been `
` discussed among us long before the Time Machine was made--thought `
` but cheerlessly of the Advancement of Mankind, and saw in the `
` growing pile of civilization only a foolish heaping that must `
` inevitably fall back upon and destroy its makers in the end. If that `
`