flames. But, at last, above the subsiding red of the fire, above the

streaming masses of black smoke and the whitening and blackening

tree stumps, and the diminishing numbers of these dim creatures,

came the white light of the day.

'I searched again for traces of Weena, but there were none. It was

plain that they had left her poor little body in the forest. I

cannot describe how it relieved me to think that it had escaped the

awful fate to which it seemed destined. As I thought of that, I was

almost moved to begin a massacre of the helpless abominations about

me, but I contained myself. The hillock, as I have said, was a kind

of island in the forest. From its summit I could now make out

through a haze of smoke the Palace of Green Porcelain, and from that

I could get my bearings for the White Sphinx. And so, leaving the

remnant of these damned souls still going hither and thither and

moaning, as the day grew clearer, I tied some grass about my feet

and limped on across smoking ashes and among black stems, that still

pulsated internally with fire, towards the hiding-place of the Time

Machine. I walked slowly, for I was almost exhausted, as well as

lame, and I felt the intensest wretchedness for the horrible death

of little Weena. It seemed an overwhelming calamity. Now, in this

old familiar room, it is more like the sorrow of a dream than an

actual loss. But that morning it left me absolutely lonely

again--terribly alone. I began to think of this house of mine, of

this fireside, of some of you, and with such thoughts came a longing

that was pain.

106

The Time Machine