E. Nesbit - The Railway Children

All sorts of dreadful thoughts came to her all together in one horrible flash. There were such things as express trains which went on, she supposed, for hundreds of miles without stopping. Suppose this should be one of them? How would she get home again? She had no money to pay for the return journey.

‘And I’ve no business here. I’m an engine-burglar – that’s what I am,’ she thought. ‘I shouldn’t wonder if they could lock me up for this.’ And the train was going faster and faster.

There was something in her throat that made it impossible for her to speak. She tried twice. The men had their backs to her. They were doing something to things that looked like taps.

Suddenly she put out her hand and caught hold of the nearest sleeve. The man turned with a start, and he and Roberta stood for a minute looking at each other in silence. Then the silence was broken by them both.

The man said, ‘Here’s a bloomin’ go!’ and Roberta burst into tears.

The other man said he was blooming well blest – or something like it – but though naturally surprised they were not exactly unkind.

‘You’re a naughty little girl, that’s what you are,’ said the fireman, but the engine-driver said:

‘Darling little piece, I call her,’ but they made her sit down on an iron seat in the cab and told her to stop crying and tell them what she meant by it.

She did stop, as soon as she could. One thing that helped her was the thought that Peter would give almost his ears to be in her place – on a real engine – really going. The children had often wondered whether any engine-driver could be found noble enough to take them for a ride on an engine – and now here she was. She dried her eyes and sniffed earnestly.

‘Now, then,’ said the fireman, ‘out with it. What do you mean by it, eh?’

‘Oh, please,’ sniffed Bobbie, and stopped.

‘Try again,’ said the engine-driver, encouragingly.

Bobbie tried again.

‘Please, Mr Engineer,’ she said, ‘I did call out to you from the line, but you didn’t hear me – and I just climbed up to touch you on the arm – quite gently I meant to do it – and then I fell into the coals – and I am so sorry if I frightened you. Oh, don’t be cross – oh, please don’t!’ She sniffed again.

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