He climbed without pause, dwindling to a small figure aloft, to Nan so
far below. She leant in collapse against a huge tarred water-butt,
pitiably undecided whether by ascending after him she would do more harm
or good. The question was of such importance to her, but its resolution
depended upon her poor unguided wisdom, and she shrank from the
responsibility. Still Silas climbed, and stood at last upon the topmost
landing, and disappeared from her view.
When he disappeared she hesitated no longer, but ran from her shelter of
concealment, and started pulling herself up on the ascent. She went up
the steep stairs, pulling hand over hand on the iron rail that served on
one side as banister. She thought that she would soon be on a level with
the black smoke floating from the chimneys. Through the perforations of
the iron steps she could see the ground below, and when she turned her
head she found that the roofs of the village had become apparent. She
had never been up this way before, but always by the inner staircase.
But Silas, of course, had chosen the more gaunt, the more perilous
method of approach.
Landings on the way up admitted to two other storeys; these she passed,
having a glimpse of machinery within. The top windows, square and bleak,
were those of the gallery,—Gregory’s gallery. She was upon the landing,
and slipped in through the door which had been left ajar. Everything
moved quickly now, too quickly to admit of any interference or
direction, and what would be done now would never have the chance of
being undone, nor would there be time for any reckoning or dexterity, in
the vehemence of colliding passions that listened to no argument and
were endowed with a strength beyond the reasoned energy of will.
Inside the five-hundred foot length of gallery the vats stretched away
in low regular ranks, under the even light of the flat windows,
pale-brown with dirt. The soap in the vats shifted and breathed; spat
and slithered as it boiled. Linnet lay unconscious on the ground, as
though he had been dropped there by a man surprised at his work; cast
down with no more care than a toy by some formidable strength; and
forgetful of prudence, Nan was instantly on her knees beside him. The
other two were at a little distance, obvious of all save their last
terrible combat. Speech and sight respectively denied them, a finer
understanding taught them mutual penetration. They might have been
ringed about by flames. They were alert only for one another. Kneeling
on the ground at Linnet’s side, Nan kept her gaze fastened upon them: it
was to her very strange that Gregory should appear so fully aware of his
brother’s change of front. That he was aware of it, there could be no
doubt; he had set himself ready in the attitude of a wrestler awaiting
an onslaught. And Silas,—had heaven miraculously restored sight to
Silas, that he advanced with such slow certainty towards his brother? He
crouched, stalking him. He never once blundered against a vat.
Gregory leapt suddenly upon him, and in an instant their limbs were
locked.