ol. It was death--painless but inevitable--death for young and old,
for weak and strong, for rich and poor, without hope or possibility of
escape. Such was the news which, in scattered, distracted messages, the
telephone had brought us. The great cities already knew their fate and
so far as we could gather were preparing to meet it with dignity and
resignation. Yet here were our golfers and laborers like the lambs who
gambol under the shadow of the knife. It seemed amazing. And yet how
could they know? It had all come upon us in one giant stride. What was
there in the morning paper to alarm them? And now it was but three in
the afternoon. Even as we looked some rumour seemed to have spread, for
we saw the reapers hurrying from the fields. Some of the golfers were
returning to the club-house. They were running as if taking refuge from
a shower. Their little caddies trailed behind them. Others were
continuing their game. The nurse had turned and was pushing her
perambulator hurriedly up the hill again. I noticed that she had her
hand to her brow. The cab had stopped and the tired horse, with his head
sunk to his knees, was resting. Above there was a perfect summer
sky--one huge vault of unbroken blue, save for a few fleecy white clouds
over the distant downs. If the human race must die to-day, it was at
least upon a glorious death-bed. And yet all that gentle loveliness of
nature made this terrific and wholesale destruction the more pitiable and
awful. Surely it was too goodly a residence that we should be so
swiftly, so ruthlessly, evicted from it!

But I have said that the telephone-bell had rung once more. Suddenly I
heard Challenger's tremendous voice from the hall.

"Malone!" he cried. "You are wanted."

I rushed down to the instrument. It was McArdle speaking from London.

"That you, Mr. Malone?" cried his familiar voice. "Mr. Malone, there are
terrible goings-on in London. For God's sake, see if Professor
Challenger can suggest anything that can be done."

"He can suggest nothing, sir," I answered. "He regards the crisis as
universal and inevitable. We have some oxygen here, but it can only
defer our fate for a few hours."

"Oxygen!" cried the agonized voice. "There is no time to get any. The
office has been a perfect pandemonium ever since you left in the morning.
Now half of the staff are insensible. I am weighed down with heaviness
myself. From my window I can see the people