fire. The farmhouse was only two fields from
the village, and the congregation rushed across there, Harry
Winburn and two or three of the most active young men and boys
leading. As they entered the yard, the flames were rushing out of
the chimney, and any moment the thatch might take fire. Here was
the real danger. A ladder had just been raised against the
chimney, and, while a frightened farm-girl and a carter-boy held
it at the bottom, a man was going up it carrying a bucket of
water. It shook with his weight, and the top was slipping
gradually along the face of the chimney, and in another moment
would rest against nothing. Harry and his companions saw the
danger at a glance, and shouted to the man to stand still till
they could get to the ladder. They rushed towards him with the
rush which men can only make under strong excitement. The
foremost of them caught a spoke with one hand, but before he
could steady it, the top slipped clear of the chimney, and,
ladder, man, and bucket came heavily to the ground.

Then came a scene of bewildering confusion, as women and children
trooped into the yard--"Who was it?" "Was he dead?" "The fire was
catching the thatch." "The stables were on fire." "Who did
it?"--all sorts of cries and all sorts of acts except the right
ones. Fortunately two or three of the men, with heads on their
shoulders, soon organized a line for handling buckets; the flue
was stopped below, and Harry Winburn standing nearly at the top
of the ladder, which was now safely planted, was deluging the
thatch round the chimney from the buckets handed up to him. In a
few minutes he was able to pour water down the chimney itself,
and soon afterwards the whole affair was at an end. The farmer's
dinner was spoilt, but otherwise no damage had been done, except
to the clothes of the foremost men; and the only accident was
that first fall from the ladder.

The man had been carried out of the yard while the fire was still
burning; so that it was hardly known who it was.

Now, in answer to their inquiries, it proved to be old Simon, the
rector's gardener and head man, who had seen the fire, and sent
the news to the church, while he himself went to the spot, with
such result as we have seen.

The surgeon had not yet seen him. Some declared he was dead;
others, that he was sitting up at home, and quite well. Little by
little the crowd dispersed to Sunday's dinners; when they met
again before the afternoon's service, it