|
suggested. For my own part, I was particularly preoccupied with the ` `
trick of the model. That I remember discussing with the Medical Man, ` `
whom I met on Friday at the Linnaean. He said he had seen a similar ` `
thing at Tubingen, and laid considerable stress on the blowing out ` `
of the candle. But how the trick was done he could not explain. ` `
` `
The next Thursday I went again to Richmond--I suppose I was one of ` `
the Time Traveller's most constant guests--and, arriving late, found ` `
four or five men already assembled in his drawing-room. The Medical ` `
Man was standing before the fire with a sheet of paper in one hand ` `
and his watch in the other. I looked round for the Time Traveller, ` `
and--'It's half-past seven now,' said the Medical Man. 'I suppose ` `
we'd better have dinner?' ` `
` `
'Where's----?' said I, naming our host. ` `
` `
'You've just come? It's rather odd. He's unavoidably detained. He ` `
asks me in this note to lead off with dinner at seven if he's not ` `
back. Says he'll explain when he comes.' ` `
` `
'It seems a pity to let the dinner spoil,' said the Editor of a ` `
well-known daily paper; and thereupon the Doctor rang the bell. ` `
` `
The Psychologist was the only person besides the Doctor and myself ` `
who had attended the previous dinner. The other men were Blank, the ` `
Editor aforementioned, a certain journalist, and another--a quiet, ` `
shy man with a beard--whom I didn't know, and who, as far as my ` `
observation went, never opened his mouth all the evening. There was ` `
some speculation at the dinner-table about the Time Traveller's ` `
absence, and I suggested time travelling, in a half-jocular spirit. ` `
The Editor wanted that explained to him, and the Psychologist ` `
volunteered a wooden account of the 'ingenious paradox and trick' we ` `
had witnessed that day week. He was in the midst of his exposition ` `
when the door from the corridor opened slowly and without noise. I ` `
was facing the door, and saw it first. 'Hallo!' I said. 'At last!' ` `
And the door opened wider, and the Time Traveller stood before us. ` `
I gave a cry of surprise. 'Good heavens! man, what's the matter?' ` `
cried the Medical Man, who saw him next. And the whole tableful ` `
turned towards the door. ` `
` `
He was in an amazing plight. His coat was dusty and dirty, and ` `
smeared with green down the sleeves; his hair disordered, and as it ` `
seemed to me greyer--either with dust and dirt or because its colour ` `
had actually faded. His face was ghastly pale; his chin had a brown ` `
cut on it--a cut half healed; his expression was haggard and drawn, ` `
as by intense suffering. For a moment he hesitated in the doorway, ` `
as if he had been dazzled by the light. Then he came into the room. ` `
He walked with just such a limp as I have seen in footsore tramps. ` `
We stared at him in silence, expecting him to speak. ` `
` `
He said not a word, but came painfully to the table, and made a ` `
motion towards the wine. The Editor filled a glass of champagne, and ` `
pushed it towards him. He drained it, and it seemed to do him good: ` `
for he looked round the table, and the ghost of his old smile ` `
flickered across his face. 'What on earth have you been up to, man?' ` `
said the Doctor. The Time Traveller did not seem to hear. 'Don't let ` `
me disturb you,' he said, with a certain faltering articulation. ` `
'I'm all right.' He stopped, held out his glass for more, and took ` `
it off at a draught. 'That's good,' he said. His eyes grew brighter, ` `
and a faint colour came into his cheeks. His glance flickered over ` `
our faces with a certain dull approval, and then went round the warm ` `
and comfortable room. Then he spoke again, still as it were feeling ` `
his way among his words. 'I'm going to wash and dress, and then I'll ` `
come down and explain things ... Save me some of that mutton. I'm ` `
starving for a bit of meat.' ` `
` `
He looked across at the Editor, who was a rare visitor, and hoped he ` `
was all right. The Editor began a question. 'Tell you presently,' ` `
said the Time Traveller. 'I'm--funny! Be all right in a minute.' ` `
` `
He put down his glass, and walked towards the staircase door. Again ` `
I remarked his lameness and the soft padding sound of his footfall, ` `
and standing up in my place, I saw his feet as he went out. He had ` `
nothing on them but a pair of tattered, blood-stained socks. Then the ` `
door closed upon him. I had half a mind to follow, till I remembered ` `
how he detested any fuss about himself. For a minute, perhaps, my ` `
mind was wool-gathering. Then, 'Remarkable Behaviour of an Eminent ` `
Scientist,' I heard the Editor say, thinking (after his wont) in ` `
headlines. And this brought my attention back to the bright ` `
dinner-table. ` `
` `
'What's the game?' said the Journalist. 'Has he been doing the ` `
Amateur Cadger? I don't follow.' I met the eye of the Psychologist, ` `
and read my own interpretation in his face. I thought of the Time ` `
Traveller limping painfully upstairs. I don't think any one else had ` `
noticed his lameness. ` `
` `
The first to recover completely from this surprise was the Medical ` `
Man, who rang the bell--the Time Traveller hated to have servants ` `
waiting at dinner--for a hot plate. At that the Editor turned to his ` `
knife and fork with a grunt, and the Silent Man followed suit. The ` `
dinner was resumed. Conversation was exclamatory for a little while, ` `
with gaps of wonderment; and then the Editor got fervent in his ` `
curiosity. 'Does our friend eke out his modest income with a ` `
crossing? or has he his Nebuchadnezzar phases?' he inquired. 'I feel ` `
assured it's this business of the Time Machine,' I said, and took up ` `
the Psychologist's account of our previous meeting. The new guests ` `
were frankly incredulous. The Editor raised objections. 'What _was_ ` `
this time travelling? A man couldn't cover himself with dust by ` `
rolling in a paradox, could he?' And then, as the idea came home to ` `
him, he resorted to caricature. Hadn't they any clothes-brushes in ` `
the Future? The Journalist too, would not believe at any price, and ` `
joined the Editor in the easy work of heaping ridicule on the whole ` `
thing. They were both the new kind of journalist--very joyous, ` `
irreverent young men. 'Our Special Correspondent in the Day ` `
after To-morrow reports,' the Journalist was saying--or rather ` `
shouting--when the Time Traveller came back. He was dressed in ` `
ordinary evening clothes, and nothing save his haggard look remained ` `
of the change that had startled me. ` `
` `
'I say,' said the Editor hilariously, 'these chaps here say you have ` `
been travelling into the middle of next week! Tell us all about ` `
little Rosebery, will you? What will you take for the lot?' ` `
` `
The Time Traveller came to the place reserved for him without a ` `
word. He smiled quietly, in his old way. 'Where's my mutton?' he ` `
said. 'What a treat it is to stick a fork into meat again!' ` `
` `
'Story!' cried the Editor. ` `
` `
'Story be damned!' said the Time Traveller. 'I want something to ` `
eat. I won't say a word until I get some peptone into my arteries. ` `
Thanks. And the salt.' ` `
` `
'One word,' said I. 'Have you been time travelling?' ` `
` `
'Yes,' said the Time Traveller, with his mouth full, nodding his ` `
head. ` `
` `
'I'd give a shilling a line for a verbatim note,' said the Editor. ` `
The Time Traveller pushed his glass towards the Silent Man and rang ` `
it with his fingernail; at which the Silent Man, who had been ` `
staring at his face, started convulsively, and poured him wine. ` `
The rest of the dinner was uncomfortable. For my own part, sudden ` `
questions kept on rising to my lips, and I dare say it was the same ` `
with the others. The Journalist tried to relieve the tension by ` `
telling anecdotes of Hettie Potter. The Time Traveller devoted his ` `
attention to his dinner, and displayed the appetite of a tramp. ` `
The Medical Man smoked a cigarette, and watched the Time Traveller ` `
through his eyelashes. The Silent Man seemed even more clumsy than ` `
usual, and drank champagne with regularity and determination out of ` `
sheer nervousness. At last the Time Traveller pushed his plate away, ` `
and looked round us. 'I suppose I must apologize,' he said. 'I was ` `
simply starving. I've had a most amazing time.' He reached out his ` `
hand for a cigar, and cut the end. 'But come into the smoking-room. ` `
It's too long a story to tell over greasy plates.' And ringing the ` `
bell in passing, he led the way into the adjoining room. ` `
` `
'You have told Blank, and Dash, and Chose about the machine?' he ` `
said to me, leaning back in his easy-chair and naming the three new ` `
guests. ` `
` `
'But the thing's a mere paradox,' said the Editor. ` `
` `
'I can't argue to-night. I don't mind telling you the story, but ` `
I can't argue. I will,' he went on, 'tell you the story of what ` `
has happened to me, if you like, but you must refrain from ` `
interruptions. I want to tell it. Badly. Most of it will sound like ` `
lying. So be it! It's true--every word of it, all the same. I was in ` `
my laboratory at four o'clock, and since then ... I've lived eight ` `
days ... such days as no human being ever lived before! I'm nearly ` `
worn out, but I shan't sleep till I've told this thing over to you. ` `
Then I shall go to bed. But no interruptions! Is it agreed?' ` `
` `
'Agreed,' said the Editor, and the rest of us echoed 'Agreed.' And ` `
with that the Time Traveller began his story as I have set it forth. ` `
He sat back in his chair at first, and spoke like a weary man. ` `
Afterwards he got more animated. In writing it down I feel with only ` `
too much keenness the inadequacy of pen and ink--and, above all, my ` `
own inadequacy--to express its quality. You read, I will suppose, ` `
attentively enough; but you cannot see the speaker's white, ` `
sincere face in the bright circle of the little lamp, nor hear the ` `
intonation of his voice. You cannot know how his expression followed ` `
the turns of his story! Most of us hearers were in shadow, for the ` `
candles in the smoking-room had not been lighted, and only the face ` `
of the Journalist and the legs of the Silent Man from the knees ` `
downward were illuminated. At first we glanced now and again at each ` `
other. After a time we ceased to do that, and looked only at the ` `
Time Traveller's face. ` `
` `
` `
` `
III ` `
` `
` `
'I told some of you last Thursday of the principles of the Time ` `
Machine, and showed you the actual thing itself, incomplete in the ` `
workshop. There it is now, a little travel-worn, truly; and one of ` `
the ivory bars is cracked, and a brass rail bent; but the rest of ` `
it's sound enough. I expected to finish it on Friday, but on Friday, ` `
when the putting together was nearly done, I found that one of the ` `
nickel bars was exactly one inch too short, and this I had to get ` `
remade; so that the thing was not complete until this morning. It ` `
was at ten o'clock to-day that the first of all Time Machines began ` `
its career. I gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again, put ` `
one more drop of oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the ` `
saddle. I suppose a suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels ` `
much the same wonder at what will come next as I felt then. I took ` `
the starting lever in one hand and the stopping one in the other, ` `
pressed the first, and almost immediately the second. I seemed to ` `
reel; I felt a nightmare sensation of falling; and, looking round, ` `
|