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The war of the worlds H. G. Wells Public domain text from Project Gutenberg. / The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells But who shall dwell in these worlds if they be inhabited? . . . Are we or they Lords of the World? . . . And how are all things made for man? KEPLER (quoted in _The Anatomy of Melancholy_) Contents BOOK ONE. THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS I. THE EVE OF THE WAR. II. THE FALLING STAR. III. ON HORSELL COMMON. IV. THE CYLINDER OPENS. V. THE HEAT-RAY. VI. THE HEAT-RAY IN THE CHOBHAM ROAD. VII. HOW I REACHED HOME. VIII. FRIDAY NIGHT. IX. THE FIGHTING BEGINS. X. IN THE STORM. XI. AT THE WINDOW. XII. WHAT I SAW OF THE DESTRUCTION OF WEYBRIDGE AND SHEPPERTON. 1 XIII. HOW I FELL IN WITH THE CURATE. XIV. IN LONDON. XV. WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN SURREY. XVI. THE EXODUS FROM LONDON. XVII. THE THUNDER CHILD . BOOK TWO. THE EARTH UNDER THE MARTIANS I. UNDER FOOT. II. WHAT WE SAW FROM THE RUINED HOUSE. III. THE DAYS OF IMPRISONMENT. IV. THE DEATH OF THE CURATE. V. THE STILLNESS. VI. THE WORK OF FIFTEEN DAYS. VII. THE MAN ON PUTNEY HILL. VIII. DEAD LONDON. IX. WRECKAGE. X. THE EPILOGUE. BOOK ONE THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS I. THE EVE OF THE WAR. No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire 2

The war of the worlds

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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 123

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The war of the worlds