Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 5.pdf/242

 growing all about us, straddling over us, blundering against all that is subtle and sacred in our world. Why here—Look!"

He pointed, and his friend's eyes followed the line of his white finger.

"One of their footmarks. See! It has smashed itself three feet deep and more, a pitfall for horses and rider, a trap to the unwary. There is a briar rose smashed to death; there is grass uprooted and a teazle crushed aside, a farmer's drain pipe snapped and the edge of the pathway broken down. Destruction! So they are doing all over the world, all over the order and decency the world of men has made. Trampling on all things. Reaction! What else?"

"But—reaction. What do you hope to do?"

"Stop it!" cried the young man from Oxford. "Before it is too late."

"But"

"It's not impossible," cried the young man from Oxford, with a jump in his voice. "We want the firm hand; we want the subtle plan, the resolute mind. We have been mealy-mouthed and weak-handed; we have trifled and temporised, and the Food has grown and grown. Yet even now"

He stopped for a moment. "This is the echo of Caterham," said his friend.

"Even now. Even now there is hope—abundant hope, if only we make sure of what we want and what we mean to destroy. The mass of people are with us, much more with us than they were a few years ago; the law is with us, the constitution and order of society, the spirit of the established religions, the customs