Nicky obeyed with alacrity. As he reached the first branch, Agatha appeared at the cottage window which fronted the green.
“What has happened?” she asked. The bell went on ringing. Then a sharp whistle was heard.
“Constable’s whistle,” remarked the Ancient. “I knows ’un.”
Excitement gripped them, as a man tore past on a bicycle, heading for Wilverley. As he passed the tree, he yelled out: “Fire! Fire!”
“That was Wilson. My lady’s shover,” faltered Martha. “Oh, dear! oh, dear! Where be fire?”
“ ’Tis a rick, maybe,” hazarded Nicodemus.
By this time, Nick was high up the tree. He shouted down:
“I sees a gert smoke, I do.”
“Wheer? Wheer?” shouted Nicodemus.
Martha Giles expressed a positive opinion that Wilson was riding fast for the Wilverley fire-engine.