all black within and almost smoking still, venerable masters of
fire about to perish by fire.

Roudic, as they passed along, pointed out the various quarters of the
establishment: "This is the setting-up room, these the workshops of the
great lathe and little lathe, the braziery, the forges, the foundry." He
had to shout, so deafening was the noise.

Jack, half dazed, looked with surprise through the workshop doors,
nearly all open on account of the heat, at a swarming of upraised arms,
of blackened faces, of machinery in motion in a cave-like darkness, dull
and deep, lit up by brief flashes of red light.

Out poured the hot air, with mingled odors of coal, burned clay, molten
iron and the impalpable black dust, sharp and burning, which in the
sunlight had a metallic sparkle, the glitter of coal that may become
diamond.

But what gave a special character to these formidable works was the
perpetual commotion of both earth and air, a continual trepidation,
something like the striving of a huge beast imprisoned beneath the
foundry, whose groans and burning breath burst hissing out through the
yawning chimneys. Jack, fearful of appearing too much of a novice, dared
not ask what it was made this noise, which even at a distance had so
impressed him....

As they talked, they passed along the streets of the iron-works laid
with rails, crowded at this hour, the working day just at an end, with a
concourse of men of all kinds and sizes and trades; a motley of blouses,
pilot jackets, the coats of the designers mixing with the uniforms of
the overseers.

The gravity with which this deliverance from toil was effected struck
Jack forcibly. He compared this scene with the cries, the jostling on
the pavements which in Paris enliven the exit from the workshops, and
make it as noisy as that of a school. Here, rule and discipline were
sensibly felt, just as on board a man-of-war.

A warm mist of steam floated over this mass of human beings, a steam
that the sea breeze had not yet dispersed, and which hung like a heavy
cloud in the stillness of this July evening. From the now silent
workshops evaporated the odors of the forge. Steam whistled forth in the
gutters, sweat stood on all the foreheads, and the panting that had
puzzled Jack a little while ago had given place to a breath of relief
from these two thousand chests wearied with the day's labor.

As he passed through the crowd, Labassindre was soon recognized.

"Hullo! youn