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When the Sleeper Wakes-Part13_H. G. WELLS (1866-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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and men on unknown businesses shot along

the drooping cables and the frail bridges were crowded



with men. It was like peering into a gigantic glass

hive, and it lay vertically below him with only a tough



glass of unknown thickness to save him from a fall.

The street showed warm and lit, and Graham was wet



now to the skin with thawing snow, and his feet were

numbed with cold. For a space he could not move.



"Come on!" cried his guide, with terror in his voice.

"Come on!"



Graham reached the pitch of the roof by an effort.

Over the ridge, following his guide's example, he



turned about and slid backward down the opposite

slope very swiftly, amid a little avalanche of snow



While he was sliding he thought of what would happen

if some broken gap should come in his way. At the



edge he stumbled to his feet ankle deep in slush

thanking heaven for an opaque footing again. His



guide was already clambering up a metal screen to a

level expanse.



Through the spare snowflakes above this loomed

another line of vast windmills, and then suddenly the



amorphous tumult of the rotating wheels was pierced

with a deafening sound. It was a mechanical shrilling



of extraordinaryintensity that seemed to come simultaneously

from every point of the compass.



"They have missed us already!" cried Graham's

guide in an accent of terror, and suddenly, with a



blinding flash, the night became day.

Above the driving snow, from the summits of the



wind-wheels, appeared vast masts carrying globes of

livid light. They receded in illimitable vistas in every



direction. As far as his eye could penetrate the snowfall

they glared.



"Get on this," cried Graham's conductor, and

thrust him forward to a long grating of snowless



metal that ran like a band between two slightly

sloping expanses of snow. It felt warm to Graham's



benurrled feet, and a faint eddy of steam rose from it.

"Come on!" shouted his guide ten yards off, and,



without waiting, ran swiftly through the incandescent

glare towards the iron supports of the next range of



wind-wheels. Graham, recovering from his astonishment,

followed as fast, convinced of his imminent



capture.

In a score of seconds they were within a tracery of



glare and black shadows shot with moving bars

beneath the monstrous wheels. Graham's conductor



ran on for some time, and suddenly darted sideways

and vanished into a black shadow in the corner of the



foot of a huge support. In another moment Graham

was beside him.



They cowered panting and stared out.

The scene upon which Graham looked was very



wild and strange. The snow had now almost ceased;

only a belated flake passed now and again across the



picture. But the broad stretch of level before them

was a ghastly white, broken only by gigantic masses



and moving shapes and lengthy strips of impenetrable

darkness, vast ungainly Titans of shadow. All about



them, huge metallicstructures, iron girders, inhumanly

vast as it seemed to him, interlaced, and the



edges of wind-wheels, scarcely moving in the lull, I

passed in great shining curves steeper and steeper up



into a luminous haze. Wherever the snow-spangled

light struck down, beams and girders, and incessant



bands running with a halting, indomitable resolution

passed upward and downward into the black. And



with all that mighty activity, with an omnipresent

sense of motive and design, this snow-clad desolation



of mechanism seemed void of all human presence save

themselves, seemed as trackless and deserted and



unfrequented by men as some inaccessible Alpine

snowfield.






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