Jack Greenwood stood beside her. His round eyes stared, his wide mouth hung open.
"Oh, Mrs. Robson!" he gasped.
"Yes, Jack?" It was so silly that anyone should look so excited. There really was nothing to fuss about. After all, they were her stacks burning and she was quite content to stand watching them. Really it was rather a beautiful sight, so long as one did not stand too near, where the sparks might fall.
"Please, m'm, Constable Burton says I'm to tell you there's been an accident up the street. Some one's hurt and they want to bring him into your house."
"Of course. I'll go. I can't do anything here. What is it?"
Here at least, was something obvious and familiar to be done.
"Some one's shot that fellow what talked in the village."
"Shot him? Oh, nonsense! Who do you mean? Mr. Hunting?" Thank everything there was to thank that David was in Hardrascliffe!
"No, yon other, with red hair."
"Oh.... Is he badly hurt?"