"Manly Wade Wellman - Sherlock Holmes's War of the Worlds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wellman Manly Wade)

craterlike pit opened.
That was where the mighty cylinder had fallen from the sky and had unscrewed its top to reveal bizarre
passengers. It was like a place where an explosion had happened, with upthrown banks of turf and
gravel ringing the hole many yards across. The first sight of the creatures emerging had somewhat
daunted a flow of curious people from Woking and from Horsell in the opposite direction, so that they
milled around at a considerable distance. But their curiosity was roused anew by a mirrorlike disk that
was pushed upward on a rod to turn shakily.
"I wonder if they can watch us with that," said someone.
On the evening train from Waterloo Station in Lon-don had arrived Sir Percy Phelps and a tall
stranger in gray. Now they, too, came out from Woking to mingle with the crowd of onlookers. Several
acquaintances greeted Sir Percy and gazed curiously at his com-panion.
"I suggest that we do not approach the pit at once," said the tall man to Sir Percy. "Here, we can see
well from behind this sandy rise and make deductions."
Sir Percy stood with him in a depression on the far side of a heather-tufted knoll. A nearby bicyclist
joined them and told of seeing the creatures of the cylinder.
"Like an octopus," he described them.
"No, more like a big spider," suggested another man a dozen feet away.
The tall stranger wrote on a note pad. Ogilvy, from the nearby college observatory, came to speak to
Sir Percy, who introduced his guest.
"Has Professor George E. Challenger been here?" asked the tall one. "His wife said he had come. A
short, heavily built man with a black beard."
 "Yes, he was here," said Ogilvy. "It was my first acquaintance with him, and I shan't care if it turns out
to be the last."
"Why do you say that?" asked Sir Percy.
"He began by saying he had seen these visitors on Mars, and he added that they might not be Martians
at all.
"Indeed?" Sir Percy looked blank. What, then?"
"I fear we never got to anything like sane, con-sidered discussion. Stent, the astronomer RoyalтАФthere
he is, yonder with Henderson, the journalistтАФsaid something appropriate, about not offering mere
con-jectures and imagined evidence."
"And Challenger?" prompted the tall man, smiling slightly. "What was his reaction?"
"I cannot exactly quote his unrestrained invective," said Ogilvy, shaking his head. "He talked as though
Stent were an impertinent schoolboy, bade him go to to the devil, and went walking away somewhere.
I'm glad he's gone. But you, gentlemen, will you join our deputation, to communicate with these Martian
visitors?'
"A deputation, eh?" repeated Sir Percy. "Why, as to that, since I'm from the Foreign Office, I suppose
that I shouldтАФ"
"You are from the Foreign Office, and that is an excellent reason for you to stay apart for the time
being," broke in his companion. "Reflect, Sir Percy, scientists may confer with those creatures if it is
pos-sible, which I do not wholly admit. But you are with the British Government and I am but a private
citizen. Thank you for your flattering invitation, Mr. Ogilvy, but we will stay where we are just now."
Ogilvy left them. At a distance he conferred with Stent, a tall fair man with a rosy face. They moved
away, followed by several others. On the far side of the pit, toward Horsell, the deputation formed itself.
Stent and Ogilvy took position at its head. Close be-hind them, the journalist Henderson carried a white
flag on a pole.
"That was a wise thought," commented Phelps from behind the mound. "The Martians will know that
we offer them peaceful welcome."
"I take leave to wonder about that," said the other gravely. "All these descriptions, though sketchy
enough, suggest a race of beings vastly different from ourselves. A white flag may mean nothing at all to
them, or it may mean the exact opposite of what it means to us. And creatures who can travel across