BOOK ONE: THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS
CHAPTER 3: ON HORSELL COMMON
(continued)
At that time it was quite clear in my own mind that the
Thing had come from the planet Mars, but I judged it
improbable that it contained any living creature. I thought
the unscrewing might be automatic. In spite of Ogilvy, I
still believed that there were men in Mars. My mind ran
fancifully on the possibilities of its containing manuscript,
on the difficulties in translation that might arise, whether
we should find coins and models in it, and so forth. Yet it
was a little too large for assurance on this idea. I felt an
impatience to see it opened. About eleven, as nothing
seemed happening, I walked back, full of such thought, to
my home in Maybury. But I found it difficult to get to work
upon my abstract investigations.
In the afternoon the appearance of the common had altered
very much. The early editions of the evening papers had
startled London with enormous headlines:
"A MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM MARS."
"REMARKABLE STORY FROM WOKING,"
and so forth. In addition, Ogilvy's wire to the Astronomical
Exchange had roused every observatory in the three kingdoms.
There were half a dozen flies or more from the Woking
station standing in the road by the sand pits, a basket-chaise
from Chobham, and a rather lordly carriage. Besides
that, there was quite a heap of bicycles. In addition, a
large number of people must have walked, in spite of the
heat of the day, from Woking and Chertsey, so that there was
altogether quite a considerable crowd--one or two gaily
dressed ladies among the others.
It was glaringly hot, not a cloud in the sky nor a breath
of wind, and the only shadow was that of the few scattered
pine trees. The burning heather had been extinguished, but
the level ground towards Ottershaw was blackened as far as
one could see, and still giving off vertical streamers of
smoke. An enterprising sweet-stuff dealer in the Chobham
Road had sent up his son with a barrow-load of green
apples and ginger beer.
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