"Sorry. But it's you taught me the trick of walking
in that friendly way."

"You haven't learnt the refinements of it yet then," said Raut, laughing
artificially again. "By Jove! I'm black and blue." Horrocks offered no
apology. They stood now near the bottom of the hill, close to the fence
that bordered the railway. The ironworks had grown larger and spread out
with their approach. They looked up to the blast furnaces now instead of
down; the further view of Etruria and Hanley had dropped out of sight with
their descent. Before them, by the stile, rose a notice-board, bearing,
still dimly visible, the words, "BEWARE OF THE TRAINS," half hidden by
splashes of coaly mud.

"Fine effects," said Horrocks, waving his arm. "Here comes a train. The
puffs of smoke, the orange glare, the round eye of light in front of it,
the melodious rattle. Fine effects! But these furnaces of mine used to be
finer, before we shoved cones in their throats, and saved the gas."

"How?" said Raut. "Cones?"

"Cones, my man, cones. I'll show you one nearer. The flames used to flare
out of the open throats, great--what is it?--pillars of cloud by day, red
and black smoke, and pillars of fire by night. Now we run it off--in
pipes, and burn it to heat the blast, and the top is shut by a cone.
You'll be interested in that cone."

"But every now and then," said Raut, "you get a burst of fire and smoke up
there."

"The cone's not fixed, it's hung by a chain from a lever, and balanced by
an equipoise. You shall see it nearer. Else, of course, there'd be no way
of getting fuel into the thing. Every now and then the cone dips, and out
comes the flare."

"I see," said Raut. He looked over his shoulder. "The moon gets brighter,"
he said.

"Come along," said Horrocks abruptly, gripping his shoulder again, and
moving him suddenly towards the railway crossing. And then came one of
those swift incidents, vivid, but so rapid that they leave one doubtful
and reeling. Half-way across, Horrocks's hand suddenly clenched upon him
like a vice, and swung him backward and through a half-turn, so that he
looked up the line. And there a chain of lamp-lit carriage windows
telescoped swiftly as it came towards them, and the red and yellow lights
of an engine grew larger and larger, rushing down upon them. As he grasped
what this meant, he turned his face to Horrocks, and pushed with all his
strength against the arm that held him back between the rails. The
struggle