Война миров
How I Fell in with the Curate
Halliford,itseemed,wasdeserted,andseveralofthehousesfacingtheriverwereonfire. Itwasstrangetoseetheplacequitetranquil,quitedesolateunderthehotbluesky,withthesmokeandlittlethreadsofflamegoingstraightupintotheheatoftheafternoon. NeverbeforehadIseenhousesburningwithouttheaccompanimentofanobstructivecrowd. Alittlefartheronthedryreedsupthebankweresmokingandglowing,andalineoffireinlandwasmarchingsteadilyacrossalatefieldofhay.
ForalongtimeIdrifted,sopainfulandwearywasIaftertheviolenceIhadbeenthrough,andsointensetheheatuponthewater. Thenmyfearsgotthebetterofmeagain,andIresumedmypaddling. Thesunscorchedmybareback. Atlast,asthebridgeatWaltonwascomingintosightroundthebend,myfeverandfaintnessovercamemyfears,andIlandedontheMiddlesexbankandlaydown,deadlysick,amidthelonggrass. Isupposethetimewasthenaboutfourorfiveo’clock. Igotuppresently,walkedperhapshalfamilewithoutmeetingasoul,andthenlaydownagainintheshadowofahedge. Iseemtoremembertalking,wanderingly,tomyselfduringthatlastspurt. Iwasalsoverythirsty,andbitterlyregretfulIhaddrunknomorewater. ItisacuriousthingthatIfeltangrywithmywife; Icannotaccountforit,butmyimpotentdesiretoreachLeatherheadworriedmeexcessively.
Idonotclearlyrememberthearrivalofthecurate,sothatprobablyIdozed. Ibecameawareofhimasaseatedfigureinsoot-smudgedshirtsleeves,andwithhisupturned,clean-shavenfacestaringatafaintflickeringthatdancedoverthesky. Theskywaswhatiscalledamackerelsky—rowsandrowsoffaintdown-plumesofcloud,justtintedwiththemidsummersunset.
