The engine-fire glowed upon heavy puffs of smoke, making them a rich crimson.

A freight of iron bars clanged and clashed intolerably.

When remoteness at length stilled them, there rose again the long wailing whistle; it was answered by another like it from still greater distance.
Glazzard could stand and walk no longer.

He threw himself on a seat, crossed his arms, and remained motionless until the ringing of a bell and a sudden turning on of lights warned him that his train drew near.
On the way to Polterham he dozed, and only a fortunate awaking at the last moment saved him from passing his station.

It was now close upon two o'clock, and he had a two-mile walk to Highmead.