As he spoke, the porter turned a curious eye upon Charles Rambert, whose arrival had caused quite a sensation two days before in this little spot, where with but few exceptions none but people belonging to the neighbourhood ever came by train.
"No, I am not going away," Thérèse replied. "I have accompanied M. Rambert, who has come to meet his father."
"Ah-ha, to meet your papa, sir: is he coming from far?"
"From Paris," Charles Rambert answered. "Is the train signalled yet?"
The man drew out a watch like a turnip, and looked at the time.
"It won't be here for quite another twenty minutes. The work on the tunnel makes it necessary to be careful, and it's always late now. But you will hear when the bell rings: that will be when the train is coming over the level-crossing; it will run into the station three minutes after that. Well, Mademoiselle, I must get on with my work," and the man left them.
Thérèse turned to Charles Rambert.
"Shall we go on to the platform? Then we shall see the train come in."
So they left the waiting-room and began to walk up and down the whole length of the platform. Thérèse watched the jerky movements of the hands of the clock, and smiled at her companion.
"Five minutes more, and your father will be here! Four minutes more! Ah! There it is!" and she pointed to a slope in the distance where a slight trail of smoke rose white against the blue of the sky, now clear of cloud. "Can't you see it? That is the steam from the engine coming out of the tunnel."