The War of the Worlds


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writhing with the gusts of the dying storm, and throwing a red  
reflection upon the cloud-scud above. Every now and then a haze of  
smoke from some nearer conflagration drove across the window and hid  
the Martian shapes. I could not see what they were doing, nor the  
clear form of them, nor recognise the black objects they were busied  
upon. Neither could I see the nearer fire, though the reflections of  
it danced on the wall and ceiling of the study. A sharp, resinous  
tang of burning was in the air.  
I closed the door noiselessly and crept towards the window. As I  
did so, the view opened out until, on the one hand, it reached to the  
houses about Woking station, and on the other to the charred and  
blackened pine woods of Byfleet. There was a light down below the  
hill, on the railway, near the arch, and several of the houses along  
the Maybury road and the streets near the station were glowing ruins.  
The light upon the railway puzzled me at first; there were a black  
heap and a vivid glare, and to the right of that a row of yellow  
oblongs. Then I perceived this was a wrecked train, the fore part  
smashed and on fire, the hinder carriages still upon the rails.  
Between these three main centres of light--the houses, the train,  
and the burning county towards Chobham--stretched irregular patches of  
dark country, broken here and there by intervals of dimly glowing and  
smoking ground. It was the strangest spectacle, that black expanse set  
with fire. It reminded me, more than anything else, of the Potteries  
at night. At first I could distinguish no people at all, though I  
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Page
68 69 70 71 72

Quick Jump
1 65 131 196 261