"Way!  Way!  The Martians are coming!"

Few stopped and came aside from that flood.  The lane opened
slantingly into the main road with a narrow opening, and had a
delusive appearance of coming from the direction of London.  Yet a
kind of eddy of people drove into its mouth; weaklings elbowed out of
the stream, who for the most part rested but a moment before plunging
into it again.  A little way down the lane, with two friends bending
over him, lay a man with a bare leg, wrapped about with bloody rags.
He was a lucky man to have friends.