"Abruptly, I dashed down the match, and, knocking one
of the people over in my course, went blundering across the big dining-hall
again, out under the moonlight. I heard cries of terror and their little feet
running and stumbling this way and that. I do not remember all I did as the
moon crept up the sky. I suppose it was the unexpected nature of my loss that
maddened me. I felt hopelessly cut off from my own kind, a strange animal in an
unknown world. I must have raved to and fro, screaming and crying upon God and
Fate. I have a memory of horrible fatigue, as the long night of despair wore
away; of looking in this impossible place and that; of groping among moonlit
ruins and touching strange creatures in the black shadows; at last, of lying on
the ground near the sphinx and weeping with absolute wretchedness. I had
nothing left but misery.
Then I slept, and when I woke again it was full day,
and a couple of sparrows were hopping round me on the turf within reach of my
arm.
"I sat up in the freshness of the morning, trying to
remember how I had got there, and why I had such a profound sense of desertion
and despair. Then things came clear in my mind. With the plain, reasonable daylight,
I could look my circumstances fairly in the face. I saw the wild folly of my
frenzy overnight, and I could reason with myself. 'Suppose the worst?' I said.
'Suppose the machine altogether lost perhaps destroyed? It behoves me to be
calm and patient, to learn the way of the people, to get a clear idea of the
method of my loss, and the means of getting materials and tools; so that in the
end, perhaps, I may make another.' That would be my only hope, perhaps, but
better than despair. And, after all, it was a beautiful and curious world.
"But probably, the machine had only been taken away.
Still, I must be calm and patient, find its hiding-place, and recover it by
force or cunning. And with that I scrambled to my feet and looked about me,
wondering where I could bathe. I felt weary, stiff, and travel-soiled. The
freshness of the morning made me desire an equal freshness. I had exhausted my
emotion. Indeed, as I went about my business, I found myself wondering at my
intense excitement overnight. I made a careful examination of the ground about
the little lawn. I wasted some time in futile questionings, conveyed, as well
as I was able, to such of the little people as came by. They all failed to
understand my gestures; some were simply stolid, some thought it was a jest and
laughed at me. I had the hardest task in the world to keep my hands off their
pretty laughing faces.
It was a foolish impulse, but the devil begotten of fear
and blind anger was ill curbed and still eager to take advantage of my perplexity.
The turf gave better counsel. I found a groove ripped in it, about midway
between the pedestal of the sphinx and the marks of my feet where, on arrival,
I had struggled with the overturned machine. There were other signs of removal
about, with queer narrow footprints like those I could imagine made by a sloth.
This directed my closer attention to the pedestal. It was, as I think I have
said, of bronze.
It was not a mere block, but highly decorated with deep framed
panels on either side. I went and rapped at these. The pedestal was hollow.
Examining the panels with care I found them discontinuous with the frames.
There were no handles or keyholes, but possibly the panels, if they were doors,
as I supposed, opened from within. One thing was clear enough to my mind. It
took no very great mental effort to infer that my Time Machine was inside that
pedestal. But how it got there was a different problem.
"I saw the heads of two orange-clad people coming
through the bushes and under some blossom-covered apple-trees towards me. I
turned smiling to them and beckoned them to me. They came, and then, pointing
to the bronze pedestal, I tried to intimate my wish to open it. But at my first
gesture towards this they behaved very oddly. I don't know how to convey their expression
to you. Suppose you were to use a grossly improper gesture to a delicate-minded
woman, it is how she would look. They went off as if they had received the last
possible insult. I tried a sweet-looking little chap in white next, with
exactly the same result. Somehow, his manner made me feel ashamed of myself.
But, as you know, I wanted the Time Machine, and I tried him once more. As he
turned off, like the others, my temper got the better of me. In three strides I
was after him, had him by the loose part of his robe round the neck, and began
dragging him towards the sphinx. Then I saw the horror and repugnance of his
face, and all of a sudden I let him go.
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