t
the dim steaming railway and the busy ironworks beyond, frowning as if he
were thinking out some knotty problem.

Raut glanced at him and away again. "At present your moonlight effect is
hardly ripe," he continued, looking upward; "the moon is still smothered
by the vestiges of daylight."

Horrocks stared at him with the expression of a man who has suddenly
awakened. "Vestiges of daylight? ... Of course, of course." He too looked
up at the moon, pale still in the midsummer sky. "Come along," he said
suddenly, and gripping Raut's arm in his hand, made a move towards the
path that dropped from them to the railway.

Raut hung back. Their eyes met and saw a thousand things in a moment that
their lips came near to say. Horrocks's hand tightened and then relaxed.
He let go, and before Raut was aware of it, they were arm in arm, and
walking, one unwillingly enough, down the path.

"You see the fine effect of the railway signals towards Burslem," said
Horrocks, suddenly breaking into loquacity, striding fast and tightening
the grip of his elbow the while--"little green lights and red and white
lights, all against the haze. You have an eye for effect, Raut. It's fine.
And look at those furnaces of mine, how they rise upon us as we come down
the hill. That to the right is my pet--seventy feet of him. I packed him
myself, and he's boiled away cheerfully with iron in his guts for five
long years. I've a particular fancy for _him_. That line of red
there--a lovely bit of warm orange you'd call it, Raut--that's the
puddlers' furnaces, and there, in the hot light, three black figures--did
you see the white splash of the steam-hammer then?--that's the rolling
mills. Come along! Clang, clatter, how it goes rattling across the floor!
Sheet tin, Raut,--amazing stuff. Glass mirrors are not in it when that
stuff comes from the mill. And, squelch! there goes the hammer again. Come
along!"

He had to stop talking to catch at his breath. His arm twisted into Raut's
with benumbing tightness. He had come striding down the black path towards
the railway as though he was possessed. Raut had not spoken a word, had
simply hung back against Horrocks's pull with all his strength.

"I say," he said now, laughing nervously, but with an undertone of snarl
in his voice, "why on earth are you nipping my arm off, Horrocks, and
dragging me along like this?"

At length Horrocks released him. His manner changed again. "Nipping your
arm off?" he said.