| BOOK TWO: THE EARTH UNDER THE MARTIANS
CHAPTER 4: THE DEATH OF THE CURATE
 (continued)   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  I could have fancied it had been withdrawn.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 cellar again.
 For a minute I was not sure.  Apparently it had taken a lump
 of coal to examine. |