Two or three left work and crowded about him. The flock came nearer, followed by a press of men on foot and men on horseback.
"By th' Heart!" cried one. "They're Wildwater sheep, yond; I can see th' red owning-mark on their backs."
"Ay. Lonks they are, if my een's gooid for owt," said Hiram.
No man looked at his neighbour, and none spoke of those who rode behind the sheep, though the red-headed horsemen, sword on thigh, were twice as plain to be seen as the breed of sheep they brought to washing. Silently Hiram and his fellows returned to work; silently the Ratcliffes rode forward to the pinfold walls, while their farm-folk followed with the sheep.
Red Ratcliffe peered over the wall-top of the nearer pin-fold, and affected vast surprise at sight of the busy stir within. "What is this, lads?" he cried, turning to his kinsfolk.
"'Twould seem there's more than one has marked how fair a washing day it is," answered another, showing a like surprise. "They're not content with one pool, either, but must use them both."
"Whose sheep should they be, think ye? They're sadly lean, once they are rubbed free of dirt," went on Red Ratcliffe, who seemed to be the leader of the band.
"Nay, if there's aught poor in breed, father it on a Wayne," said the other.
Red Ratcliffe fixed his eyes on Hiram Hey, who was watching the pool with that daft air of simplicity which was his staunchest weapon in times of peril.
"We want to wash our sheep," said Ratcliffe.