For a minute or so I remained watching the curate, and then I advanced, crouching and stepping with extreme care amid the broken crockery that littered the floor. Through the aperture in the wall I could see the top of a tree touched with gold and the warm blue of a tranquil evening sky. I could hear a number of noises almost like those in an engine shed and the place rocked with that beating thud. His shoulders were hunched, so that his head was hidden from me. It was still day- light, and I perceived him across the room, lying against the triangular hole that looked out upon the Martians. I whispered for the curate several times, and at last felt my way to the door of the kitchen.
The thudding vibration continued with wearisome persistence. After eating we crept back to the scullery, and there I must have dozed again, for when presently I looked round I was alone.
