The porter opened the door cautiously, not nearly wide enough to

admit her.

'It's you, is it, ma'am?' said he, drawing a long breath, and

widening the entrance, but still not opening it fully. Margaret

went in. He hastily bolted it behind her.

'Th' folk are all coming up here I reckon?' asked he.

'I don't know. Something unusual seemed going on; but this street

is quite empty, I think.' She went across the yard and up the steps to the house door.

There was no near sound,--no steam-engine at work with beat and

pant,--no click of machinery, or mingling and clashing of many

sharp voices; but far away, the ominous gathering roar,

deep-clamouring.




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