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.