No footfall broke it.

When they heard the distant rush of the night train, they all three went out to see its great yellow eye come nearer and nearer.
Trenholme had one or two packages to put in the van.

He and his companions exchanged greetings with the men of the train.
Just as he was handing in his last package, a gentlemanly voice accosted him.
"Station-master!" said a grey-haired, military-looking traveller, "Station-master! Is there any way of getting milk here ?" A lady stood behind the gentleman.

They were both on the platform at the front of a passenger car.
"It's for a child, you know," explained the gentleman.
Trenholme remembered his untouched tea, and confessed to the possession of a little milk.
"Oh, hasten, hasten!" cried the lady, "for the guard says the train will move on in a moment." As Trenholme knew that the little French conductor thus grandly quoted did not know when the train would start, and as in his experience the train, whatever else it did, never hastened, he did not move with the sudden agility that was desired.

Before he turned he heard a loud-whispered aside from the lady: "Tell him we'll pay him double--treble, for it; I have heard they are avaricious." When Trenholme had started the train he jumped upon it with the milk.