Every night at exactly eight minutes past nine, the limited roars through the village. I can see it coming several miles away, its powerful headlight fingering rails and telegraph wires with a shimmer of light. Silently and slowly it seems to draw nearer; then suddenly it is almost above me. A wild roar of steam and driving wheels, the wail of its horse whistle at the crossing, and then, looming black against the night sky, it smashes past, and in the swing of drivers and connecting rods I think of a greyhound or a racehorse thundering the final stretch. High in the cab window, a motionless figure peers ahead into the night; suddenly he is blackly sihouetted by the glare of the open fir door, and in the orange light I can see the fireman swing back and forth as he feeds the fire. The light burns against the flying steam and smoke above; then blackness - and now the white windows of the Pullmans flicker past, and through the swirl of dust and smoke I watch the two red lights sink down the track. How Antithesis is being used in this text?