"
Wilson, then, was that man whose figure loomed out against the
ever-increasing dull hot light behind, whenever the smoke was clear--
was that George Wilson? Mary sickened with terror. She knew he
worked for Carsons; but at first she had had no idea that any lives
were in danger; and since she had become aware of this, the heated
air, the roaring flames, the dizzy light, and the agitated and
murmuring crowd, had bewildered her thoughts.
"Oh! let us go home, Margaret; I cannot stay."
"We cannot go! See how we are wedged in by folks. Poor Mary! ye
won't hanker after a fire again. Hark! listen!" For through the
hushed crowd pressing round the angle of the mill, and filling up
Dunham Street, might be heard the rattle of the engine, the heavy,
quick tread of loaded horses.
"Thank God!" said Margaret's neighbour, "the engine's come."
Another pause; the plugs were stiff, and water could not be got.
Then there was a pressure through the crowd, the front rows bearing
back on those behind, till the girls were sick with the close
ramming confinement.
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