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tangle of rhododendron bushes, black in the pale light, and
there was the little lawn. I looked at the lawn again. A queer
doubt chilled my complacency. No, said I stoutly to my-
self, that was not the lawn.
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H. G. Wells. The Time Machine.
48 49
But it WAS the lawn. For the white leprous face of the when I faced the empty space among the black tangle of
sphinx was towards it. Can you imagine what I felt as this bushes. I ran round it furiously, as if the thing might be
conviction came home to me? But you cannot. The Time hidden in a corner, and then stopped abruptly, with my hands
Machine was gone! clutching my hair. Above me towered the sphinx, upon the
At once, like a lash across the face, came the possibility of bronze pedestal, white, shining, leprous, in the light of the
losing my own age, of being left helpless in this strange new rising moon. It seemed to smile in mockery of my dismay.
world. The bare thought of it was an actual physical sensa- I might have consoled myself by imagining the little people
tion. I could feel it grip me at the throat and stop my breath- had put the mechanism in some shelter for me, had I not felt
ing. In another moment I was in a passion of fear and run- assured of their physical and intellectual inadequacy. That is
ning with great leaping strides down the slope. Once I fell what dismayed me: the sense of some hitherto unsuspected
headlong and cut my face; I lost no time in stanching the power, through whose intervention my invention had van-
blood, but jumped up and ran on, with a warm trickle down ished. Yet, for one thing I felt assured: unless some other age
my cheek and chin. All the time I ran I was saying to myself: had produced its exact duplicate, the machine could not have
They have moved it a little, pushed it under the bushes out moved in time. The attachment of the levers I will show
of the way. Nevertheless, I ran with all my might. All the you the method later prevented any one from tampering
time, with the certainty that sometimes comes with excessive with it in that way when they were removed. It had moved,
dread, I knew that such assurance was folly, knew instinc- and was hid, only in space. But then, where could it be?
tively that the machine was removed out of my reach. My I think I must have had a kind of frenzy. I remember
breath came with pain. I suppose I covered the whole dis- running violently in and out among the moonlit bushes all
tance from the hill crest to the little lawn, two miles perhaps, round the sphinx, and startling some white animal that, in
in ten minutes. And I am not a young man. I cursed aloud, the dim light, I took for a small deer. I remember, too, late
as I ran, at my confident folly in leaving the machine, wasting that night, beating the bushes with my clenched fist until my
good breath thereby. I cried aloud, and none answered. Not a knuckles were gashed and bleeding from the broken twigs.
creature seemed to be stirring in that moonlit world. Then, sobbing and raving in my anguish of mind, I went
When I reached the lawn my worst fears were realized. down to the great building of stone. The big hall was dark,
Not a trace of the thing was to be seen. I felt faint and cold silent, and deserted. I slipped on the uneven floor, and fell
Contents
H. G. Wells. The Time Machine.
50 51
over one of the malachite tables, almost breaking my shin. I have a memory of horrible fatigue, as the long night of de-
lit a match and went on past the dusty curtains, of which I spair wore away; of looking in this impossible place and that;
have told you. of groping among moon-lit ruins and touching strange crea-
There I found a second great hall covered with cushions, tures in the black shadows; at last, of lying on the ground
upon which, perhaps, a score or so of the little people were near the sphinx and weeping with absolute wretchedness. I
sleeping. I have no doubt they found my second appearance had nothing left but misery. Then I slept, and when I woke
strange enough, coming suddenly out of the quiet darkness again it was full day, and a couple of sparrows were hopping
with inarticulate noises and the splutter and flare of a match. round me on the turf within reach of my arm.
For they had forgotten about matches. Where is my Time I sat up in the freshness of the morning, trying to re-
Machine? I began, bawling like an angry child, laying hands member how I had got there, and why I had such a profound
upon them and shaking them up together. It must have been sense of desertion and despair. Then things came clear in my
very queer to them. Some laughed, most of them looked mind. With the plain, reasonable daylight, I could look my
sorely frightened. When I saw them standing round me, it circumstances fairly in the face. I saw the wild folly of my
came into my head that I was doing as foolish a thing as it frenzy overnight, and I could reason with myself. Suppose
was possible for me to do under the circumstances, in trying the worst? I said. Suppose the machine altogether lost
to revive the sensation of fear. For, reasoning from their day- perhaps destroyed? It behooves me to be calm and patient, to
light behaviour, I thought that fear must be forgotten. learn the way of the people, to get a clear idea of the method
Abruptly, I dashed down the match, and, knocking one of of my loss, and the means of getting materials and tools; so
the people over in my course, went blundering across the big that in the end, perhaps, I may make another. That would
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