| BOOK TWO: THE EARTH UNDER THE MARTIANS
CHAPTER 9: WRECKAGE
    And now comes the strangest thing in my story.  Yet,
 perhaps, it is not altogether strange.  I remember, clearly and
 coldly and vividly, all that I did that day until the time that
 I stood weeping and praising God upon the summit of Primrose Hill.  And then I forget.    Of the next three days I know nothing.  I have learned
 since that, so far from my being the first discoverer of the
 Martian overthrow, several such wanderers as myself had
 already discovered this on the previous night.  One man--the first--had
 gone to St. Martin's-le-Grand, and, while I
 sheltered in the cabmen's hut, had contrived to telegraph to
 Paris.  Thence the joyful news had flashed all over the world;
 a thousand cities, chilled by ghastly apprehensions, suddenly flashed into frantic illuminations; they knew of it in
 Dublin, Edinburgh, Manchester, Birmingham, at the time
 when I stood upon the verge of the pit.  Already men, weeping with joy, as I have heard, shouting and staying their
 work to shake hands and shout, were making up trains, even
 as near as Crewe, to descend upon London.  The church bells
 that had ceased a fortnight since suddenly caught the news,
 until all England was bell-ringing.  Men on cycles, lean-faced,
 unkempt, scorched along every country lane shouting of
 unhoped deliverance, shouting to gaunt, staring figures of
 despair.  And for the food!  Across the Channel, across the
 Irish Sea, across the Atlantic, corn, bread, and meat were
 tearing to our relief.  All the shipping in the world seemed
 going Londonward in those days.  But of all this I have no
 memory.  I drifted--a demented man.  I found myself in a
 house of kindly people, who had found me on the third day
 wandering, weeping, and raving through the streets of St.
 John's Wood.  They have told me since that I was singing
 some insane doggerel about "The Last Man Left Alive!
 Hurrah!  The Last Man Left Alive!"  Troubled as they were
 with their own affairs, these people, whose name, much as
 I would like to express my gratitude to them, I may not
 even give here, nevertheless cumbered themselves with me,
 sheltered me, and protected me from myself.  Apparently they
 had learned something of my story from me during the days
 of my lapse. |