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The War of the Worlds

Chapter 7 SEVEN

Word Count: 1312    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

REACHE

out me gathered the invisible terrors of the Martians; that pitiless sword of heat seemed whirling to and fro, flourishing overhead befo

tion and of my flight, and I staggered and fell by the wayside. That was n

remained the

hings before me--the immensity of the night and space and nature, my own feebleness and anguish, and the near approach of death. Now it was as if something turned over, and the point of view altered abruptly. There was no sensible transition from one state of mind to

are say I staggered drunkenly. A head rose over the arch, and the figure of a workman carrying a basket appeared. Beside him ran a little boy. He pass

clatter, clap, rap, and it had gone. A dim group of people talked in the gate of one of the houses in the pretty little row of gables that was cal

tachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all from the outside, from somewhere inconceivably remote, out of time,

flying yonder, not two miles away. There was a noise of business from the gas

rom the comm

men and a wom

one of the

rom the comm

st been there?

he common," said the woman over

men from Mars?" said I;

an over the gate. "Thenks";

nd I could not tell them what I had seen.

yet," I said, and

wine, and so soon as I could collect myself sufficiently I told her the things I had seen. The dinner,

most sluggish things I ever saw crawl. They may keep the pit and kill people w

fe, knitting her brows an

d. "To think he may

ience incredible. When I saw how deadl

here," she said

ake wine, and trie

carcely mov

face of the earth the force of gravity is three times what it is on the surface of Mars. A Martian, therefore, would weigh three times more than on Mars, albeit his muscular strength would be the same. His own body would

influences of this excess of oxygen upon the Martians indisputably did much to counterbalance the increased weight of their bodies. And, in the second p

the chances of the invaders. With wine and food, the confidence of my own table, and t

re dangerous because, no doubt, they are mad with terror. Perhaps they ex

, "if the worst comes to th

face peering at me from under the pink lamp shade, the white cloth with its silver and glass table furniture--for in those days even philosophical writers had many little luxuries--the crimson-pu

nest, and discussed the arrival of that shipful of pitiless sailors

ast civilised dinner I was to eat for

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