understood of us. Did they grasp that we in our millions were
organized, disciplined, working together? Or did they interpret our
spurts of fire, the sudden stinging of our shells, our steady
investment of their encampment, as we should the furious unanimity of
onslaught in a disturbed hive of bees? Did they dream they might
exterminate us? (At that time no one knew what food they needed.) A
hundred such questions struggled together in my mind as I watched that
vast sentinel shape. And in the back of my mind was the sense of all
the huge unknown and hidden forces Londonward. Had they prepared
pitfalls? Were the powder mills at Hounslow ready as a snare? Would the
Londoners have the heart and courage to make a greater Moscow of their
mighty province of houses?
Then, after an interminable time, as it seemed to us, crouching and
peering through the hedge, came a sound like the distant concussion of
a gun. Another nearer, and then another. And then the Martian beside us
raised his tube on high and discharged it, gunwise, with a heavy report
that made the ground heave. The one towards Staines answered him. There
was no flash, no smoke, simply that loaded detonation.
I was so excited by these heavy minute-guns following one another that
I so far forgot my personal safety and my scalded hands as to clamber
up into the hedge and stare towards Sunbury. As I did so a second
report followed, and a big projectile hurtled overhead towards
Hounslow. I expected at least to see smoke or fire, or some such
evidence of its work. But all I saw was the deep blue sky above, with
one solitary star, and the white mist spreading wide and low beneath.
And there had been no crash, no answering explosion. The silence was
restored; the minute lengthened to three.
What has happened? said the curate, standing up beside me.
Heaven knows! said I.
A bat flickered by and vanished. A distant tumult of shouting began and
ceased. I looked again at the Martian, and saw he was now moving
eastward along the riverbank, with a swift, rolling motion.
Every moment I expected the fire of some hidden battery to spring upon
him; but the evening calm was unbroken. The figure of the Martian grew
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