They had just entered the great main shed of the steel works. The foreman, who had been induced by the young men to take them through, was in the act of placing Laura in the shelter of a brick screen, so as to protect her from a glowing shower of sparks that would otherwise have swept over her; and the girl had thrown a few startled looks around her.
A vast shed, much of it in darkness, and crowded with dim forms of iron and brick—at one end, and one side, openings, where the June day came through. Within—a grandiose mingling of fire and shadow—a vast glare of white or bluish flame from a huge furnace roaring against the inner wall of the shed—sparks, like star showers, whirling through dark spaces—ingots of glowing steel, pillars of pure fire passing and repassing, so that the heat of them scorched the girl's shrinking cheek—and everywhere, dark against flame, the human movement answering to the elemental leap and rush of the fire, black forms of men in a constant activity, masters and ministers at once of this crackling terror round about them.
"Aye!" said their guide, answering the girl's questions as well as he could in the roar—"that's the great furnace where they boil the steel. Now you watch—when the flame—look! it's white now—turns blue—that means the process is done—the steel's cooked. Then they'll bring the vat beneath—turn the furnace over—you'll see the steel pour out."
"Is that a railway?"
She pointed to a raised platform in front of the furnace. A truck bearing a high metal tub was running along it.
"Yes—it's from there they feed the furnace—in a minute you'll see the tub tip over."
There was a signal bell—a rattle of machinery. The tub tilted—a great jet of white flame shot upwards from the furnace—the great mouth had swallowed down its prey.
"And those men with their wheelbarrows? Why do they let them go so close?"
She shuddered and put her hand over her eyes.
The foreman laughed.