Donec $Title$aculis Metus Vitae Ligula
$Title$ was so excited by these heavy minute-guns following one another that $Title$ so far forgot my personal safety and my scalded hands as to clamber up into the hedge and stare towards Sunbury. As $Title$ did so a second report followed, and a big projectile hurtled overhead towards Hounslow. $Title$ expected at least to see smoke or fire, or some such evidence of its work. But all $Title$ saw was the deep blue sky above, with one solitary star, and the white mist spreading wide and low beneath. And there had been no crash, no answering explosion. The silence was restored; the minute lengthened to three.
Mauris sed nulla sed, egestas feugiat a dictum
- These hill-like forms grew lower and broader even as we stared.
- As $Title$ did so a second report followed, and a big projectile hurtled overhead.
- The figure of the Martian grew smaller as he receded, and presently the mist.
Every moment $Title$ expected the fire of some hidden battery to spring upon him; but the evening calm was unbroken. The figure of the Martian grew smaller as he receded, and presently the mist and the gathering night had swallowed him up. By a common impulse we clambered higher. Towards Sunbury was a dark appearance, as though a conical hill had suddenly come into being there, hiding our view of the farther country; and then, remoter across the river, over Walton, we saw another such summit. These hill-like forms grew lower and broader even as we stared.