It really did not seem likely that they would, but it happened, by a curious coincidence, that within a very few minutes they saw somebody looking at them.
The train was not due for ten minutes, and there were a few people who, being too restless to sit in the waiting-rooms, walked up and down on the platform. Most of these were men, and there were two men who walked farther than the others did, and so neared the place where Robin and Meg stood in the shadow. One was a young man, and seemed to be listening to instructions his companion, who was older, was giving him, in a rapid, abrupt sort of voice. This companion, who might have been his employer, was a man of middle age. He was robust of figure and had a clean-cut face, with a certain effect of strong good looks. It was, perhaps, rather a hard face, but it was a face one would look at more than once; and he too, oddly enough, had a square jaw and straight black brows. But it was his voice which first attracted Robin and Meg as he neared them, talking.
“It’s the man in the buggy,” whispered Robin. “Don’t you know his voice again?” and they watched him with deep interest.
He passed them once, without seeming to see them at all. He was explaining something to his companion. The second time he drew near he chanced to look up, and his eye fell on them. It did not rest on them more than a second, and he went on speaking. The next time he neared their part of the platform he turned his glance towards them, as they stood close together. It was as if involuntarily he glanced to see if they were still where they had been before.
“A pair of children,” they heard him say, as if the fleeting impression of their presence arrested his train of thought for a second. “Look as if no one was with them.”
He merely made the comment in passing, and returned to his subject the next second; but Meg and Robin heard him, and drew farther back into the shadow.
But it was not necessary to stand there much longer. They heard a familiar sound in the distance, the shrill cry of the incoming train—the beloved giant who was to carry them to fairyland; the people began to flock out of the waiting-rooms with packages and valises and umbrellas in hand; the porters suddenly became alert, and hurried about attending to their duties; the delightful roar drew nearer and louder, and began to shake the earth; it grew louder still, a bell began to make a cheerful tolling, people were rushing to and fro; Meg and Robin rushed with them, and the train was panting in the dépôt.
It was even more thrilling than the children had thought it would be. They had travelled so very little, and did not know exactly where to go. It might not be the right train even. They did not know how long it would wait. It might rush away again before they could get on. People seemed in such a hurry and so excited. As they hurried along they found themselves being pushed and jostled, before the steps of one of the cars a conductor stood, whom people kept showing tickets to. There were several persons round him when Robin and Meg reached the place where he stood. People kept asking him things, and sometimes he passed them on, and sometimes let them go into his car.
“IS THIS THE TRAIN TO CHICAGO?” SAID ROBIN.