And then abruptly the lights went out in every single compartment. The blackness was absolute. People put up windows and looked out into the viewless tunnel, until the vapours drove them back within. Now down the line were heard hoarse shouts and echoes, and the bobbing light of the guard’s lamp illuminated the sweating roof of the tunnel as he passed along to interview the engine driver. In a few minutes he came back, calling out, “Don’t be frightened, ladies and gentlemen, there’s no danger.” Heads peered out once more into the mephitic blackness, and the word went along that there had been a breakdown on the line ahead and that their lighting had by an unfortunate coincidence broken down as well. Everybody hoped that the signals behind were as vigilant as those in front and that the red lamps were burning bright to show that there was danger on the line.
“I aspeck the poor train wanted a rest, muvver,” said Letizia. “I aspeck it was sleepy because it was out so late.”
“I know somebody else who’s sleepy.”
“P’r’aps a little bit,” Letizia admitted.
“Dear me, she must be tired,” her mother said across the darkness to the nun. “Well, then, put your head on my lap, old lady, and go right off to sleep as soon as ever you can.”
For some time the two grown-ups in the compartment sat in silence while the little girl went to sleep. It was the nun who spoke first.
“I wonder whether it will disturb her if we talk quietly? But this utter blackness and silence is really rather dispiriting.”
“Oh, no, Sister, we shan’t disturb her. She’s sound asleep by now.”
“Does she always travel with you when you’re on tour?” the nun asked.
“Until now she has. You see, my husband only died at Christmas and we were always together with her. I am a little worried about the future, because I can’t afford to travel with a nurse and landladies vary and of course she has to be left in charge of somebody.”