The Cone - HG Wells

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The cone by H. G. Wells. The night was hot
and overcast, the sky red rimmed with a lingering sunset
of midsummer. They sat at the open window, trying to
fancy the air was fresher. There. The trees and shrubs
of the garden stood stiff and dark. Beyond in the roadway,

(00:23):
a gas lamp burnt bright orange against the hazy blue
of the evening. Farther were the three lights of the
railway signal against the lowering sky. The man and woman
spoke to one another in low tones. He does not, suspect,
said the man, a little nervously. Not he, she said, peevishly,

(00:47):
as though that too irritated her. He thinks of nothing
but the works and prices of fuel. He has no imagination,
no poetry. None of these men of iron have he said, sententiously.
They have no hearts. He has not, she said. She

(01:07):
turned her discontented face towards the window. The distant sound
of a roaring and rushing drew nearer and grew in volume.
The house quivered. One heard the metallic rattle of the
tender as the train passed. There was a glare of
light above the cutting, and a driving tumult of smoke one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,

(01:31):
eight black oblongs. Eight trucks passed across the dim gray
of the embankment, and were suddenly extinguished one by one
in the throat of a tunnel, which, with the last
seemed to swallow down train, smoke and sound in one
abrupt gulp. This country was all fresh and beautiful once,

(01:55):
he said, and now it is gehenna down that way,
nothing but pot banks and chimneys, belching fire and dust
into the face of heaven. But what does it matter?
An end comes, and end to all this cruelty. To morrow,
he spoke, the last word, in a whisper. To morrow,

(02:16):
she said, speaking in a whisper, too, and still staring
out the window. Dear, he said, putting his hand on hers.
She turned with a start, and their eyes searched one another's.
Hers softened to his gaze, My dear one, she said,
And then it seems so strange that you should have

(02:37):
come into my life like this. To open she paused,
to open, he said, all this wonderful world. She hesitated,
and spoke still more softly, this world of love to me.
Then suddenly the door clicked and closed They turned their heads,

(02:59):
and he darted violently back. In the shadow of the
room stood a great shadowy figure, silent. They saw the
face dimly in the half light, with unexpressive dark patches
under the penthouse brows. Every muscle in Rot's body suddenly
became tense. When could the door have opened? What had

(03:21):
he heard? Had he heard all? What had he seen?
A tumult of questions. The newcomer's voice came at last,
after a pause that seemed interminable. Well, he said, I
was afraid I had missed you, Horrocks, said the man
at the window, gripping the window ledge with his hand.

(03:42):
His voice was unsteady. A clumsy figure of Horrocks came
forward out of the shadow. He made no answer to
Rot's remark. For a moment he stood above them. The
woman's heart was cold within her. I told mister Rot,
it was as possible you might come back, she said,

(04:02):
in a voice that never quivered. Horrocks, still silent, sat
down abruptly in the chair by her little work table.
His big hands were clenched. One saw now the fire
of his eyes under the shadow of his brows. He
was trying to get his breath his eyes went from
the woman he had trusted to the friend he had trusted,

(04:25):
and then back to the woman. By this time, and
for the moment, all three half understood one another, yet
none dared to say a word to ease the pent
up things that choked them. It was the husband's voice
that broke the silence. At last, you wanted to see me,
he said to Rot. Rod started as he spoke. I

(04:48):
came to see you, he said, resolved to lie to
the last, Yes, said Horras. You promised, said Rot, to
show me some fine effects moonlight and smoke. I promised
to show you some fine effects of moonlight and smoke,
repeated Horrocks, in a colorless voice. And I thought I

(05:11):
might catch you to night before you went down to
the works, proceeded Rot, and come with you. There was
another pause. Did the man mean to take the thing coolly?
Did he, after all, know how long had he been
in the room. Yet, even at the moment when they
heard the door their attitudes. Horrocks glanced at the profile

(05:34):
of the woman, shadowy pallid in the half light, and
then he glanced at Rot and seemed to recover himself. Suddenly,
of course, he said, I promised to show you the
works under their proper dramatic conditions. It's odd how I
could have forgotten if I am troubling you, began Rot.

(05:55):
Horracks started again. A new light had suddenly come into
the sultry grid gloom of his eyes. Not in the least,
he said. Have you been telling, mister Rot, of all
these contrasts of flame and shadow? You think so splendid,
said the woman, turning now to her husband for the
first time, her confidence creeping back again, her voice just

(06:18):
one half note too high. That a dreadful theory of yours,
that machinery is beautiful, and everything else in the world ugly.
I thought. He would not spare you, mister Rot. It's
his great theory, his one discovery in art. I am
slow to make discoveries, said Horax, grimly, damping her suddenly.

(06:40):
But what if I discover he stopped. Well, she said nothing,
and suddenly he rose to his feet. I promise to
show you the works, he said to Rot, and put
his big clumsy hand on his friend's shoulder. And you
are ready to go quite, said Rot, and stood up.
Also there was another pause. Each of them peered through

(07:04):
the indistinctness of the dusk at the other two. Hoorrack's
hands still rested on Wrot's shoulder. Wrought half fancied still
that the incident was trivial after all. But Missus Horrocks
knew her husband better knew that grim quiet in his
voice and the confusion in her mind took a vague

(07:25):
shape of physical evil. Very well, said Horacks, and dropping
his hand, turned towards the door. My hat, Rot looked
round in the half light. That's my work basket, said
Missus Horracks, with a gust of hysterical laughter. Their hands
came together on the back of the chair. Here it is,

(07:46):
he said. She had an impulse to warn him in
an undertone, but she could not frame a word. Don't
go and beware of him, struggled in her mind, and
the swift moment passed. Got it, said Horrocks. Standing with
the door half open, Rod stepped towards him. Better say
good bye to Missus Horrocks, said the iron master, even

(08:10):
more grimly quiet in his tone than before. Rot started
and turned good evening, Missus Horrocks, he said, and their
hands touched. Horrocks held the door open with a ceremonial
politeness unusual in him towards men. Rot went out, and then,
after a wordless look at her, her husband followed. She

(08:33):
stood motionless while Rot's lightfoot fall and her husband's heavy
tread like base and treble passed down the passage together.
The front door slammed heavily. She went to the window,
moving slowly, and stood watching, leaning forward. The two men
appeared for a moment at the gateway, and the road

(08:55):
passed under the street lamp and were hidden by the
black masses of the shrubbery. The lamp light fell for
a moment on their faces, showing only unmeaning pale patches,
telling nothing of what she still feared and doubted and
craved vainly to know. Then she sank down into a
crouching attitude in the big arm chair, her eyes wide

(09:19):
open and staring out at the red lights from the
furnaces that flickered in the sky. An hour after she
was still there, her attitude scarcely changed. The oppressive stillness
of the evening weighed heavily upon wrought. They went side
by side down the road in silence, and in silence
turned into the cindrome made by way that presently opened

(09:42):
out the prospect of the valley. A blue haze, half dust,
half missed, touched the long valley with mystery. Beyond were
Hanley and Etruria, gray and dark masses, outlined thinly by
the rare golden dots of the street lamps, and here
and there a gas lit window or the yellow glare

(10:03):
of some late working factory or crowded public house. Out
of the masses, clear and slender against the evening sky,
rose a multitude of tall chimneys, many of them reeking,
a few smokeless during a season of play. Here and
there a pallid patch and ghostly stunted beehive shapes showed
the position of a pot bank or a wheel. Black

(10:26):
and sharp against the hot lower sky marked some colliery,
where they raised the iridescent coal of the place. Near
at hand was the broad stretch of railway, and half
invisible trains shunted a steady puffing and rumbling, with every run,
a ringing concussion, and the rhythmic series of impacts, and

(10:48):
the passage of intermittent puffs of white steam. Across the
further view and to the left, between the railway and
the dark mass of the low hill beyond, dominating the
whole views, all inky black and crowned with smoke and
fitful flames, stood the great cylinders of the Jedda Company
blast furnaces, the central edifices of the big iron works

(11:12):
of which Horrocks was the manager. They stood heavy and threatening,
full of an incessant turmoil of flames and seething molten iron.
And about the feet of them rattled the rolling mills,
and the steam hammer beat heavily and splashed the white
iron sparks hither and thither. Even as they looked, a

(11:33):
truckful of fuel was shot into one of the giants,
and the red flames gleamed out, and a confusion of
smoke and black dust came boiling upwards towards the sky.
Certainly you get some fine effects of color with your furnaces,
said Rod, breaking a silence that had become apprehensive. Horrax grunted.

(11:54):
He stood with his hands in his pockets, frowning down
at the dim steaming railway and the busy iron works beyond,
frowning as if he were thinking out some knotty problem.
Rod glanced at him and away again. At present, your
moonlight effect is hardly ripe, he continued, looking upward. The
moon is still smothered by the vestiges of daylight, Orrocks

(12:17):
stared at him with the expression of a man who
has suddenly awakened vestiges of daylight. Of course, of course,
he too looked up at the moon, pale still in
the midsummer sky. Come along, he said, suddenly, and gripping
Roth's arm in his hand, made a move towards the
path that dropped from them to the railway. Rod hung back.

(12:40):
Their eyes met and saw a thousand things in a
moment that their lips came near to say. Orrack's hand
tightened and then relaxed. He let go, and before Rot
was aware of it, they were arm in arm and
walking one unwillingly enough down the path. You see the
fine effects of the railway ignoes towards Burslem, said Horack, suddenly,

(13:03):
breaking into loquacity, striding fast and tightening the grip of
his elbow, the while little green lights and red and
white lights all against the haze. You have an eye
for effect, Rot, It's a fine effect. And look at
those furnaces of mine, how they rise upon us as
we come down the hill that to the right is

(13:24):
my pet, seventy feet of him. I packed him myself,
and he's boiled away cheerfully with iron in his guts
for five long years. I've a particular fancy for him.
That line of red there, a lovely bit of warm orange,
you'd call it Rot. That's the puddler's furnaces, and there

(13:45):
in the hot light, three black figures. Did you see
the white splash of a steam hammer. Then that's the
rolling mills. Come along, clang, clatter, how it goes, rattling
across the floor sheet, Tin, Rot, amazing stuff. Glass mirrors
are not in it. When that stuff comes from the mill,
and squelch, there goes the hammer again. Come along. He

(14:09):
had to stop talking to catch at his breath. His
arm twisted into Rot's with benumbing tightness. He had come
striding down the black path towards the railway as though
he was possessed. Rot had not spoken a word, had
simply hung back against Hororick's pull with all his strength.
I say, he said, now, laughing nervously, but with an

(14:32):
undernote of snarl in his voice. Why on earth are
you nipping my arm off Horrocks and dragging me along
like this? At length, Horroicks released him. His manner changed again,
nipping your arm off, he said, sorry, but you taught
me the trick of walking in that friendly way. You
haven't learned the refinements of it yet, then, said Rot,

(14:55):
laughing artificially again. Why julve, I'm black and blue? Horrocks
offered no apology. They stood now near the bottom of
the hill, close to the fence that bordered the railway.
The iron works had grown larger and spread out with
their approach. They looked up to the blast furnaces now
instead of down. The further view of a true rear

(15:17):
and handley had dropped out of sight with their descent
before them by the style rosen notice board bearing still
dimly visible the words beware of the trains, half hidden
by splashes of coldly mud. Fine effects, said Horacks, waving
his arm. Here comes a train, the puffs of smoke,

(15:38):
the orange glare, the round eye of light in front
of it, the melodious rattle. Fine effects. But these furnaces
of mine used to be finer before we shoved cones
in their throats and save the gas, how said rod Cones. Cones,
my man cones, I'll show you one nearer the flames

(15:59):
you to flare out of the open throats. Great, what
is it? Pillars of cloud by day, red and black smoke,
and pillars of fire by night. Now we run it
off in pipes and burn it to heat the blast,
and the top is shut by a cone. You'll be
interested in that cone. But every now and then, said Rod,

(16:21):
you get a burst of fire and smoke up there.
The cone's not fixed. It's hung by a chain from
a lever, and balanced by an equal poise. You shall
see it nearer, else, of course there'd be no way
of getting fuel into the thing. Every now and then
the cone dips and out comes the flare. I see,

(16:41):
said Rod. He looked over his shoulder. The moon gets brighter,
he said. Come along, said Horrocks, abruptly, gripping his shoulder
again and moving him suddenly toward the railway crossing. And
then came one of those swift incidents, vivid but so
rapid that they leave one doubtful and reeling half way across.

(17:02):
Horrocks's hands suddenly clenched upon him like a vise and
swung him backward and through a half turn, so that
he looked up the line and there a chain of
lamp lit carriage windows telescoped swiftly as it came towards them,
and the red and yellow lights of an engine grow
larger and larger, rushing down upon them as he grasped.

(17:24):
But this meant he turned his face to Horrocks and
pushed with all his strength against the arm that held
him back between the rails. The struggle did not last
the moment. Just as certain as it was that Horrocks
held him there, so certain was it that he had
been violently lugged out of danger. Out of the way,

(17:45):
said Horracks, with a gasp. As the train came rattling by,
and they stood panting by the gate into the iron works.
I did not see it coming, said rod Still, even
in spite of his own apprehensions, trying to keep up
an appearance of ordinary intercourse. Oricks answered with a grunt
the cone, he said, And then is one who recovers himself.

(18:08):
I thought you did not hear I didn't, said rot
I wouldn't have had you run over then, for the world,
said Hooricks. For a moment I lost my nerve, said
rot Orracks stood for half a minute, and then turned
abruptly towards the iron works. Again. See how fine these
great mounds of mine, these clinker heaps, look in the

(18:31):
night that truck yonder up above there, Up it goes
and out tilts the slag. See the palpitating red stuff
go sliding down the slope. As we get nearer, the
heap rises up and cuts the blast furnaces. See the
quiver up above the big one. Not that way, this
way between the heaps, that goes to the puddling furnaces.

(18:54):
But I want to show you the canal. First he
came and took wrought by the elbow, and so they
went alongside by side. Rot answered Horrocks vaguely what he
asked himself had really happened on the line? Was he
deluding himself with his own fancies? Or had Horrocks actually
held him back in the way of the train. Had

(19:17):
he just been within an ace of being murdered. Suppose
this slouching, scowling monster did know anything. For a minute
or two, then Rot was really afraid for his life.
But the mood passed as he reasoned with himself. After all,
Horrocks might have heard nothing. At any rate, he had
pulled him out of the way in time. His odd

(19:39):
manner might be due to the mere vague jealousy he
had shown once before. He was talking now of the
ash heaps and the canal, Eh, said Horrocks, What said Rot,
Rather the haze in the moonlight? Fine, our canal, said Horrocks,
stopping suddenly, Our canal by the moonlight and firelight is

(20:03):
an immense effect. You've never seen it. Fancy that you've
spent too many of your evenings for landering up in Newcastle. There,
I tell you, for real florid effects. But you shall
see boiling water. As they came out of the labyrinth
of clinker heaps and mounds of coal and ore, the

(20:23):
noises of the rolling mill sprang upon them. Suddenly loud,
near and distinct. Three shadowy workmen went by and touched
their caps to Horrocks. Their faces were vague and the darkness.
Rod felt a feudal impulse to address them, and before
he could frame his words, they passed into the shadows.

(20:44):
Racks pointed to the canal close before them, now a
weird looking place, it seemed, in the blood red reflections
of the furnaces, the hot water that cool the two
yurys came into it some fifty yards up, a tumultuous
almost boiler, a fluent, and the steam rose up from
the water in silent white wisps and streaks, wrapping damply

(21:06):
about them. An incessant succession of ghosts coming up from
the black and red eddies, a wide uprising that made
the head swim. The shining black tower of the larger
blast furnace rose overhead out of the mist, and its
tumultuous riot filled their ears. Rot kept away from the
edge of the water and watched horrocks. Here it is red,

(21:30):
said horrocks, blood red, vapor, as red and hot as sin,
but yonder there where the moonlight falls on it, and
it drives across the clinker heaps. It is as white
as death. Rod turned his head for a moment, and
then came back hastily to his watch. On horrocks, come
along to the rolling mills, said Horacks. The threatening hold

(21:53):
was not so evident that time, and Rod felt a
little reassured. But all the same, what on earth did
horrocks mean about white as death and red as sin? Coincidence? Perhaps?
They went and stood behind the puddlers for a little while,
and then through the rolling mills, where amidst an incessant din,

(22:14):
the deliberate steam hammer beat the juice out of the
succulent iron, and black half naked titans rushed the plastic
bars like hot sealing wax between the wheels. Come on,
said Horacs in Wrought's ear. And they went and peeped
through the little glass hole behind the two yurys, and

(22:34):
saw the tumbled fire writhing in the pit of the
blast furnace. It left one's eyes blinded for a while.
And then, with green and blue patches dancing across the dark,
they went to the lift by which the trucks of
ore and fuel and lime were raised to the top
of the big cylinder, and out upon the narrow rail

(22:57):
that overhung the furnace. Wrought doubts came upon him again.
Was it wise to be here? If Horrocks did know everything,
do what he would, he could not resist a violent trembling.
Right under foot was a sheer depth of seventy feet.
It was a dangerous place. They pushed by a truck

(23:18):
of fuel to get to the railing that crowned the place.
The reek of the furnace, a sulfurous vapor, streaked with
pungent bitterness, seemed to make the distant hillside of han
Lay quiver. The moon was riding out now from among
a drift of clouds halfway up the sky, above the
undulating wooded outlines of Newcastle. The steaming canal ran away

(23:42):
from below them under an indistinct bridge and vanished into
the dim haze of the flat fields towards Burslem. That's
the cone I've been telling you of, shouted Horrocks, and
below that sixty feet of fire and molten metal, with
the air of the blast frothing through it like gas
in soda water. Rot gripped the hand rail tightly and

(24:07):
stared down at the cone. The heat was intense, The
boiling of the iron and the tumult of a blast
made a thunderous accompaniment to Horrocks's voice. But the thing
had to be gone through now, perhaps after all in
the middle bawled Horrocks. Temperature near a thousand degrees. If
you were dropped into it, flash into flame like a

(24:29):
pinch of gunpowder and a candle. Put your hand out,
feel the heat of his breath. Why even appear? I've
seen the rain, water boiling off the trucks, and that
colb there. It's a damned sight. Too hot for roasting
cakes the top side of its three hundred degrees. Three
hundred degrees, said Rot, three hundred centigrade of mind, said Horrocks.

(24:54):
It will boil the blood of you in no time, eh,
said Rot, and turned boil the blood out of you
in No, you don't let me go, screamed Rought. Let
go my arm. With one hand, he clutched at the handrail,
and then with both. For a moment the two men
stood swaying, and then suddenly, with a violent jerk, Horrocks

(25:14):
had twisted him from his hold. He clutched at Horrocks
and missed his foot went back into empty air. In
mid air, he twisted himself and then cheek and shoulder
and knee struck the hot cone. Together. He clutched the
chain by which the cone hung, and the thing sank
an infinitesmal amount. As he struck it, a circle of

(25:36):
glowing red appeared about him, and a tongue of flame,
released from the chaos within, flickered up towards him. An
intense pain assailed him at the knees, and he could
smell the singing of his hands. He raised himself to
his feet and tried to climb up the chain, and
then something struck his head. Black and shining with the moonlight,

(25:57):
the throat of the furnace rose about horrocks he saw
stood above him by one of the trucks of fuel
on the rail. The gesticulating figure was bright and white
in the moonlight and shouting, fizzle, you fool, fizzle, you
hunter of women, you hot blooded hound. Boil, Boil, boil.

(26:18):
Suddenly he caught up a handful of coal out of
the truck and flung it deliberately, lump after lump at
wrought horrocks, cried, rot, horrocks. He clung, crying to the chain,
pulling himself from the burning of the cone. Each missile
horrocks flung hit him, his clothes charred and glowed, and

(26:39):
as he struggled, the comb dropped, and the rush of hot,
suffocating gas whooped out and burned round him in a
swift breath of flame. His human likeness departed from him.
When the momentary red had passed, Orrex saw a charred,
blackened figure, its head streaked with blood, still clutching and

(27:01):
fumbling with a chain, and writhing, an agony, a sindry animal,
an inhuman, monstrous creature that began a sobbing, intermittent shriek
abruptly at the sight, the iron Master's anger passed, A
deadly sickness came upon him. The heavy odor of burning

(27:21):
flesh came drifting up to his nostrils. His sanity returned
to him. God, have mercy upon me, he cried, O God,
what have I done? He knew the thing below him,
save that it still moved and felt was already a
dead man, and the blood of the poor wretch must
be boiling in his veins. An intense realization of that

(27:44):
agony came to his mind, and overcame every other feeling.
For a moment he stood irresolute, and then, turning to
the truck, he hastily tilted its contents upon the struggling
thing that had once been a man. The mass fell
with a thud and went radiating out over the cone,

(28:06):
And with the thud, the shriek ended, and the boiling
confusion of smoke, dust and flame came rushing up towards him.
As it passed, he saw the cone clear again, and
then he staggered back and stood trembling, clinging to the
rail with both hands. His lips moved, but no words

(28:28):
came to them. Down below was the sound of voices
and running steps. The clangor of rolling in the shed
ceased abruptly. End of the Cone by H. G. Wells