By-and-by some men came up the side of the track with lanterns.

She saw by the light they held that they were officials of the train, and that the bank on which they walked looked perfectly wild and untrodden.

She turned her head toward her father.
"We are not at any station," she remarked.
"Ay!" He got up with cumbrous haste, as a horse might rise.

He, too, looked out of the window, then round at his women and children, and clad himself in an immense coat.
"I'll just go out," he whispered, "and see how things are.

If there's anything wrong I'll let you know." He intended his whisper to be something akin to silence; he intended to exercise the utmost consideration for those around him; but his long remark was of the piercing quality that often appertains to whispers, and, as he turned his back, two of the children woke, and a young girl in the seat in front of Sophia sat up, her grey eyes dilated with alarm.
"Sophia," she said, with a low sob, "oh, Sophia, is there something _wrong_ ?" "Be quiet!" said Sophia, tartly.
The snoring mother now shut her mouth with a snap.