A deafening roar pervaded the place—everywhere a rattling, clanking, pounding, and resounding. Great wheels revolved, and long belts whizzed in rapid undulations. The walls and floors were black, the windows broken or covered with dust. The mighty chimneys rose high above the blackened building, belching great columns of curling smoke. In that turmoil of wheels and machinery Johannes saw numbers of pale-faced men with blackened hands and clothing, silently and ceaselessly working.
"Who are they?" asked Johannes.
"Wheels—more wheels," laughed Pluizer, "or human beings—as you choose. What they are doing there they do, day in—day out. And one can be human in that way, also—after a fashion."
They went on into dirty, narrow streets, where the little strip of blue sky looked only a finger's width; and even then was clouded by the clothes hung out to dry. It swarmed with people there. They jostled one another, shouted, laughed, and sometimes sang. In the houses the rooms were so small, so dark and damp, that Johannes hardly dared to breathe. He saw ragged children creeping over the bare floors; and young girls, with disheveled hair, humming melodies to thin, pale nurslings. He heard quarreling and scolding, and all the faces around him were tired, dull, or indifferent.
Johannes' heart was wrung with pain. It was not akin to his earlier grief—he was ashamed of that.
"Pluizer," he asked, "have these people always lived here—so dreary and so wretched? While I...." He dared not go on.
"Certainly; and that is fortunate. Indeed, their life is not so very dreary and wretched. They are inured to this, and know nothing better. They are dull, careless cattle. Do you see those two women there—sitting in front of their door? They look as contentedly over the foul street as you used to look upon your dunes. There is no need for you to cry over these people. You might as well cry about the moles that never see the daylight."
Johannes did not know what to reply, nor did he know why he felt so sad.
In the midst of the clamorous pushing and rushing he still saw the pale, hollow-eyed man, striding with noiseless steps.
"He is a good man after all. Do you not think so?" said Pluizer, "to take the people away from this? But even here they are afraid of him."