Reading Help War of the worlds Book 2
`
` THE DEATH OF THE CURATE `
` `
` `
` It was on the sixth day of our imprisonment that I peeped for the `
` last time, and presently found myself alone. Instead of keeping close `
` to me and trying to oust me from the slit, the curate had gone back `
` into the scullery. I was struck by a sudden thought. I went back `
` quickly and quietly into the scullery. In the darkness I heard the `
` curate drinking. I snatched in the darkness, and my fingers caught a `
` bottle of burgundy. `
` `
` For a few minutes there was a tussle. The bottle struck the floor `
` and broke, and I desisted and rose. We stood panting and threatening `
` each other. In the end I planted myself between him and the food, and `
` told him of my determination to begin a discipline. I divided the `
` food in the pantry, into rations to last us ten days. I would not let `
` him eat any more that day. In the afternoon he made a feeble effort `
` to get at the food. I had been dozing, but in an instant I was awake. `
` All day and all night we sat face to face, I weary but resolute, and `
` he weeping and complaining of his immediate hunger. It was, I know, a `
` night and a day, but to me it seemed--it seems now--an interminable `
` length of time. `
` `
` And so our widened incompatibility ended at last in open conflict. `
` For two vast days we struggled in undertones and wrestling contests. `
` There were times when I beat and kicked him madly, times when I `
` cajoled and persuaded him, and once I tried to bribe him with the last `
` bottle of burgundy, for there was a rain-water pump from which I could `
` get water. But neither force nor kindness availed; he was indeed `
` beyond reason. He would neither desist from his attacks on the food `
` nor from his noisy babbling to himself. The rudimentary precautions `
` to keep our imprisonment endurable he would not observe. Slowly I `
` began to realise the complete overthrow of his intelligence, to `
` perceive that my sole companion in this close and sickly darkness was `
` a man insane. `
` `
` From certain vague memories I am inclined to think my own mind `
` wandered at times. I had strange and hideous dreams whenever I slept. `
` It sounds paradoxical, but I am inclined to think that the weakness `
` and insanity of the curate warned me, braced me, and kept me a sane `
` man. `
` `
` On the eighth day he began to talk aloud instead of whispering, and `
` nothing I could do would moderate his speech. `
` `
` "It is just, O God!" he would say, over and over again. "It is `
` just. On me and mine be the punishment laid. We have sinned, we have `
` fallen short. There was poverty, sorrow; the poor were trodden in `
` the dust, and I held my peace. I preached acceptable folly--my God, `
` what folly!--when I should have stood up, though I died for it, and `
` called upon them to repent-repent! . . . Oppressors of the poor and `
` needy . . . ! The wine press of God!" `
` `
` Then he would suddenly revert to the matter of the food I withheld `
` from him, praying, begging, weeping, at last threatening. He began to `
` raise his voice--I prayed him not to. He perceived a hold on me--he `
` threatened he would shout and bring the Martians upon us. For a time `
` that scared me; but any concession would have shortened our chance of `
` escape beyond estimating. I defied him, although I felt no assurance `
` that he might not do this thing. But that day, at any rate, he did `
` not. He talked with his voice rising slowly, through the greater part `
` of the eighth and ninth days--threats, entreaties, mingled with a `
` torrent of half-sane and always frothy repentance for his vacant sham `
` of God's service, such as made me pity him. Then he slept awhile, and `
` began again with renewed strength, so loudly that I must needs make `
` him desist. `
` `
` "Be still!" I implored. `
` `
` He rose to his knees, for he had been sitting in the darkness near `
` the copper. `
` `
` "I have been still too long," he said, in a tone that must have `
` reached the pit, "and now I must bear my witness. Woe unto this `
` unfaithful city! Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe! To the inhabitants of `
` the earth by reason of the other voices of the trumpet----" `
` `
` "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. `
` `
` "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. `
` `
` 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. `
` `
` Then the faint metallic jingle returned. I traced it slowly `
` feeling over the kitchen. Presently I heard it nearer--in the `
` scullery, as I judged. I thought that its length might be `
` insufficient to reach me. I prayed copiously. It passed, scraping `
` faintly across the cellar door. An age of almost intolerable suspense `
` intervened; then I heard it fumbling at the latch! It had found the `
` door! The Martians understood doors! `
` `
` It worried at the catch for a minute, perhaps, and then the door `
` opened. `
` `
` In the darkness I could just see the thing--like an elephant's `
` trunk more than anything else--waving towards me and touching and `
` examining the wall, coals, wood and ceiling. It was like a black worm `
` swaying its blind head to and fro. `
` `
` Once, even, it touched the heel of my boot. I was on the verge of `
` screaming; I bit my hand. For a time the tentacle was silent. I `
` could have fancied it had been withdrawn. Presently, with an abrupt `
` click, it gripped something--I thought it had me!--and seemed to go `
` out of the cellar again. For a minute I was not sure. Apparently it `
` had taken a lump of coal to examine. `
` `
` I seized the opportunity of slightly shifting my position, which `
` had become cramped, and then listened. I whispered passionate prayers `
` for safety. `
` `
` Then I heard the slow, deliberate sound creeping towards me again. `
` Slowly, slowly it drew near, scratching against the walls and tapping `
` the furniture. `
` `
` While I was still doubtful, it rapped smartly against the cellar `
` door and closed it. I heard it go into the pantry, and the biscuit-tins `
` rattled and a bottle smashed, and then came a heavy bump against `
` the cellar door. Then silence that passed into an infinity of `
` suspense. `
` `
` Had it gone? `
` `
` At last I decided that it had. `
` `
` It came into the scullery no more; but I lay all the tenth day in `
` the close darkness, buried among coals and firewood, not daring even `
` to crawl out for the drink for which I craved. It was the eleventh day `
` before I ventured so far from my security. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER FIVE `
` `
` THE STILLNESS `
` `
` `
` 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 `
`
` THE DEATH OF THE CURATE `
` `
` `
` It was on the sixth day of our imprisonment that I peeped for the `
` last time, and presently found myself alone. Instead of keeping close `
` to me and trying to oust me from the slit, the curate had gone back `
` into the scullery. I was struck by a sudden thought. I went back `
` quickly and quietly into the scullery. In the darkness I heard the `
` curate drinking. I snatched in the darkness, and my fingers caught a `
` bottle of burgundy. `
` `
` For a few minutes there was a tussle. The bottle struck the floor `
` and broke, and I desisted and rose. We stood panting and threatening `
` each other. In the end I planted myself between him and the food, and `
` told him of my determination to begin a discipline. I divided the `
` food in the pantry, into rations to last us ten days. I would not let `
` him eat any more that day. In the afternoon he made a feeble effort `
` to get at the food. I had been dozing, but in an instant I was awake. `
` All day and all night we sat face to face, I weary but resolute, and `
` he weeping and complaining of his immediate hunger. It was, I know, a `
` night and a day, but to me it seemed--it seems now--an interminable `
` length of time. `
` `
` And so our widened incompatibility ended at last in open conflict. `
` For two vast days we struggled in undertones and wrestling contests. `
` There were times when I beat and kicked him madly, times when I `
` cajoled and persuaded him, and once I tried to bribe him with the last `
` bottle of burgundy, for there was a rain-water pump from which I could `
` get water. But neither force nor kindness availed; he was indeed `
` beyond reason. He would neither desist from his attacks on the food `
` nor from his noisy babbling to himself. The rudimentary precautions `
` to keep our imprisonment endurable he would not observe. Slowly I `
` began to realise the complete overthrow of his intelligence, to `
` perceive that my sole companion in this close and sickly darkness was `
` a man insane. `
` `
` From certain vague memories I am inclined to think my own mind `
` wandered at times. I had strange and hideous dreams whenever I slept. `
` It sounds paradoxical, but I am inclined to think that the weakness `
` and insanity of the curate warned me, braced me, and kept me a sane `
` man. `
` `
` On the eighth day he began to talk aloud instead of whispering, and `
` nothing I could do would moderate his speech. `
` `
` "It is just, O God!" he would say, over and over again. "It is `
` just. On me and mine be the punishment laid. We have sinned, we have `
` fallen short. There was poverty, sorrow; the poor were trodden in `
` the dust, and I held my peace. I preached acceptable folly--my God, `
` what folly!--when I should have stood up, though I died for it, and `
` called upon them to repent-repent! . . . Oppressors of the poor and `
` needy . . . ! The wine press of God!" `
` `
` Then he would suddenly revert to the matter of the food I withheld `
` from him, praying, begging, weeping, at last threatening. He began to `
` raise his voice--I prayed him not to. He perceived a hold on me--he `
` threatened he would shout and bring the Martians upon us. For a time `
` that scared me; but any concession would have shortened our chance of `
` escape beyond estimating. I defied him, although I felt no assurance `
` that he might not do this thing. But that day, at any rate, he did `
` not. He talked with his voice rising slowly, through the greater part `
` of the eighth and ninth days--threats, entreaties, mingled with a `
` torrent of half-sane and always frothy repentance for his vacant sham `
` of God's service, such as made me pity him. Then he slept awhile, and `
` began again with renewed strength, so loudly that I must needs make `
` him desist. `
` `
` "Be still!" I implored. `
` `
` He rose to his knees, for he had been sitting in the darkness near `
` the copper. `
` `
` "I have been still too long," he said, in a tone that must have `
` reached the pit, "and now I must bear my witness. Woe unto this `
` unfaithful city! Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe! Woe! To the inhabitants of `
` the earth by reason of the other voices of the trumpet----" `
` `
` "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. `
` `
` "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. `
` `
` 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. `
` `
` Then the faint metallic jingle returned. I traced it slowly `
` feeling over the kitchen. Presently I heard it nearer--in the `
` scullery, as I judged. I thought that its length might be `
` insufficient to reach me. I prayed copiously. It passed, scraping `
` faintly across the cellar door. An age of almost intolerable suspense `
` intervened; then I heard it fumbling at the latch! It had found the `
` door! The Martians understood doors! `
` `
` It worried at the catch for a minute, perhaps, and then the door `
` opened. `
` `
` In the darkness I could just see the thing--like an elephant's `
` trunk more than anything else--waving towards me and touching and `
` examining the wall, coals, wood and ceiling. It was like a black worm `
` swaying its blind head to and fro. `
` `
` Once, even, it touched the heel of my boot. I was on the verge of `
` screaming; I bit my hand. For a time the tentacle was silent. I `
` could have fancied it had been withdrawn. Presently, with an abrupt `
` click, it gripped something--I thought it had me!--and seemed to go `
` out of the cellar again. For a minute I was not sure. Apparently it `
` had taken a lump of coal to examine. `
` `
` I seized the opportunity of slightly shifting my position, which `
` had become cramped, and then listened. I whispered passionate prayers `
` for safety. `
` `
` Then I heard the slow, deliberate sound creeping towards me again. `
` Slowly, slowly it drew near, scratching against the walls and tapping `
` the furniture. `
` `
` While I was still doubtful, it rapped smartly against the cellar `
` door and closed it. I heard it go into the pantry, and the biscuit-tins `
` rattled and a bottle smashed, and then came a heavy bump against `
` the cellar door. Then silence that passed into an infinity of `
` suspense. `
` `
` Had it gone? `
` `
` At last I decided that it had. `
` `
` It came into the scullery no more; but I lay all the tenth day in `
` the close darkness, buried among coals and firewood, not daring even `
` to crawl out for the drink for which I craved. It was the eleventh day `
` before I ventured so far from my security. `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER FIVE `
` `
` THE STILLNESS `
` `
` `
` 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 `
`