"Hallo, Bets! You coming too?" called Daisy, surprised. "I should have thought you'd have been asleep."
"Larry!" called Pip. "It's a fire, isn't it? Whose house is burning, do you think? Will they send for the fire-engine?"
"The house will be burnt down before the firemen come
all the way from the next village!" said Larry. "Come on - it looks as if it's down Haycock Lane."
They all ran on together. Some of the villagers had seen" the glare too, and were running down the lane as well. It was exciting.
"It's Mr. Hick's house," said a man. "Sure as anything it's his house."
They all poured down to the end of the lane. The glare became higher and brighter.
"It's not the house!" cried Larry. "It's the cottage he works in, in the garden - his workroom. Golly, there won't be much left of it!"
There certainly wouldn't. The place was old, half-timbered and thatched, and the dry straw of the roof was blazing strongly.
Mr. Goon, the village policeman, was there, directing men to throw water on the flames. He saw the children and shouted at them.