daylight, though I could not see any windows on three sides of the room
to admit the light, nor any shadows to indicate that the light came from
a window in the fourth. He held in his hands an instrument unknown to
me, and seemed to be perfectly at his ease, showing neither surprise nor
curiosity. Evidently this was not the first time that he had seen an
inhabitant of the Earth. So unconcerned was he and so natural did he
appear, even in the smallest detail of dress, that it was hard to
believe I was not looking at an image of some room and its occupant in
Paris. His close-fitting clothes seemed to be of a dark green material,
and resembled, to some degree, the uniform of an army officer.

Bending over the instrument he held, he placed his mouth close to the
top of it, and immediately the humming sounds, which I had noticed
before, emanated from the wires of my apparatus. The thought flashed
through my mind that the Martian held in this instrument a means of
communicating sound. If so, what were the words--what language? The
possibility of what I heard being words, made me strain every nerve to
catch the slightest resemblance to such sounds, but alas, with no
success. That they were intended to convey a message, I became fully
convinced, but I could not rest in the belief that this jumble of sounds
was the Martian language. If the Martians themselves resembled, in so
striking a degree, the inhabitants of Earth, I argued, then it was in
the nature of things to expect a language that, in some way,
corresponded to one of our languages. The fault lay in my instrument, I
was sure of that, and in the keen disappointment of my failure to
receive his message and the excitement of the moment, I gave utterance
to an exclamation of despair. Immediately a smile overspread the
Martian's countenance, and, to my great astonishment, he put down the
instrument and clapped his hands by way of showing his approval.