Then the shouts, the great calling from the Iremongers. Agony? Are they in pain? No, no, not pain. They were cheering. Why? What for?

‘What is it? What is it, Clod?’

‘Grandfather, Lucy, Grandfather is coming!’

The train.

The train had made it back. Smashed its way through the tunnel.

‘Hold on! Hold on!’ called the butler. ‘He’s coming! He’s coming now!’

‘Here! Here! To us! To us!’ yelled the Iremongers.