CHAPTER II : The Machine

The thing the Time Traveller held in his hand was a glittering metallicrnframework, scarcely larger than a small clock, and very delicatelyrnmade. There was ivory in it, and some transparent crystallinernsubstance. And now I must be explicit, for this that follows—unless hisrnexplanation is to be accepted—is an absolutely unaccountable thing. Herntook one of the small octagonal tables that were scattered about thernroom, and set it in front of the fire, with two legs on the hearthrug.rnOn this table he placed the mechanism. Then he drew up a chair, and satrndown. The only other object on the table was a small shaded lamp, thernbright light of which fell upon the model. There were also perhaps arndozen candles about, two in brass candlesticks upon the mantel andrnseveral in sconces, so that the room was brilliantly illuminated. I satrnin a low arm-chair nearest the fire, and I drew this forward so as tornbe almost between the Time Traveller and the fireplace. Filby satrnbehind him, looking over his shoulder. The Medical Man and thernProvincial Mayor watched him in profile from the right, thernPsychologist from the left. The Very Young Man stood behind thernPsychologist. We were all on the alert. It appears incredible to mernthat any kind of trick, however subtly conceived and however adroitlyrndone, could have been played upon us under these conditions.rnrnThe Time Traveller looked at us, and then at the mechanism. “Well?”rnsaid the Psychologist.rnrn“This little affair,” said the Time Traveller, resting his elbows uponrnthe table and pressing his hands together above the apparatus, “is onlyrna model. It is my plan for a machine to travel through time. You willrnnotice that it looks singularly askew, and that there is an oddrntwinkling appearance about this bar, as though it was in some wayrnunreal.” He pointed to the part with his finger. “Also, here is onernlittle white lever, and here is another.”rnrnThe Medical Man got up out of his chair and peered into the thing.“It’s beautifully made,” he said.rnrn“It took two years to make,” retorted the Time Traveller. Then, when wernhad all imitated the action of the Medical Man, he said: “Now I wantrnyou clearly to understand that this lever, being pressed over, sendsrnthe machine gliding into the future, and this other reverses thernmotion. This saddle represents the seat of a time traveller. PresentlyrnI am going to press the lever, and off the machine will go. It willrnvanish, pass into future Time, and disappear. Have a good look at thernthing. Look at the table too, and satisfy yourselves there is norntrickery. I don’t want to waste this model, and then be told I’m arnquack.”rnrnThere was a minute’s pause perhaps. The Psychologist seemed about tornspeak to me, but changed his mind. Then the Time Traveller put forthrnhis finger towards the lever. “No,” he said suddenly. “Lend me yourrnhand.” And turning to the Psychologist, he took that individual’s handrnin his own and told him to put out his forefinger. So that it was thernPsychologist himself who sent forth the model Time Machine on itsrninterminable voyage. We all saw the lever turn. I am absolutely certainrnthere was no trickery. There was a breath of wind, and the lamp flamernjumped. One of the candles on the mantel was blown out, and the littlernmachine suddenly swung round, became indistinct, was seen as a ghostrnfor a second perhaps, as an eddy of faintly glittering brass and ivory;rnand it was gone—vanished! Save for the lamp the table was bare.rnrnEveryone was silent for a minute. Then Filby said he was damned.rnrnThe Psychologist recovered from his stupor, and suddenly looked underrnthe table. At that the Time Traveller laughed cheerfully. “Well?” hernsaid, with a reminiscence of the Psychologist. Then, getting up, hernwent to the tobacco jar on the mantel, and with his back to us began tornfill his pipe.rnrnWe stared at each other. “Look here,” said the Medical Man, “are you inrnearnest about this? Do you seriously believe that that machine hasrntravelled into time?”rnrn“Certainly,” said the Time Traveller, stooping to light a spill at thernfire. Then he turned, lighting his pipe, to look at the Psychologist’srnface. (The Psychologist, to show that he was not unhinged, helpedrnhimself to a cigar and tried to light it uncut.) “What is more, I haverna big machine nearly finished in there”—he indicated thernlaboratory—“and when that is put together I mean to have a journey onrnmy own account.”rnrn“You mean to say that that machine has travelled into the future?” saidrnFilby.rnrn“Into the future or the past—I don’t, for certain, know which.”rnrnAfter an interval the Psychologist had an inspiration. “It must haverngone into the past if it has gone anywhere,” he said.rnrn“Why?” said the Time Traveller.rnrn“Because I presume that it has not moved in space, and if it travelledrninto the future it would still be here all this time, since it mustrnhave travelled through this time.”rnrn“But,” said I, “If it travelled into the past it would have beenrnvisible when we came first into this room; and last Thursday when wernwere here; and the Thursday before that; and so forth!”rnrn“Serious objections,” remarked the Provincial Mayor, with an air ofrnimpartiality, turning towards the Time Traveller.rnrn“Not a bit,” said the Time Traveller, and, to the Psychologist: “Yournthink. _You_ can explain that. It’s presentation below the threshold,rnyou know, diluted presentation.”rnrn“Of course,” said the Psychologist, and reassured us. “That’s a simplernpoint of psychology. I should have thought of it. It’s plain enough,rnand helps the paradox delightfully. We cannot see it, nor can wernappreciate this machine, any more than we can the spoke of a wheelrnspinning, or a bullet flying through the air. If it is travellingrnthrough time fifty times or a hundred times faster than we are, if itrngets through a minute while we get through a second, the impression itrncreates will of course be only one-fiftieth or one-hundredth of what itrnwould make if it were not travelling in time. That’s plain enough.” Hernpassed his hand through the space in which the machine had been. “Yournsee?” he said, laughing.rnrnWe sat and stared at the vacant table for a minute or so. Then the TimernTraveller asked us what we thought of it all.rnrn“It sounds plausible enough tonight,” said the Medical Man; “but waitrnuntil tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.”rnrn“Would you like to see the Time Machine itself?” asked the TimernTraveller. And therewith, taking the lamp in his hand, he led the wayrndown the long, draughty corridor to his laboratory. I remember vividlyrnthe flickering light, his queer, broad head in silhouette, the dance ofrnthe shadows, how we all followed him, puzzled but incredulous, and howrnthere in the laboratory we beheld a larger edition of the littlernmechanism which we had seen vanish from before our eyes. Parts were ofrnnickel, parts of ivory, parts had certainly been filed or sawn out ofrnrock crystal. The thing was generally complete, but the twistedrncrystalline bars lay unfinished upon the bench beside some sheets ofrndrawings, and I took one up for a better look at it. Quartz it seemedrnto be.rnrn“Look here,” said the Medical Man, “are you perfectly serious? Or isrnthis a trick—like that ghost you showed us last Christmas?”rnrn“Upon that machine,” said the Time Traveller, holding the lamp aloft,“I intend to explore time. Is that plain? I was never more serious inrnmy life.”rnrnNone of us quite knew how to take it.rnrnI caught Filby’s eye over the shoulder of the Medical Man, and hernwinked at me solemnly.