Between these three main centres of light--the houses, the train,
and the burning county towards Chobham--stretched irregular patches of
dark country, broken here and there by intervals of dimly glowing and
smoking ground.  It was the strangest spectacle, that black expanse set
with fire.  It reminded me, more than anything else, of the Potteries
at night.  At first I could distinguish no people at all, though I
peered intently for them.  Later I saw against the light of Woking
station a number of black figures hurrying one after the other across
the line.