Adam pointed grimly at the offices. ‘Harte’s in a bad way, Clive. Do the best you can.’

‘Any other casualties?’ Clive cried as he raced across the yard.

‘A few men have small burns and one was struck by a piece of falling roof. But nothing too serious, as far as I can ascertain. Get to Harte first. Edwin, go along with the doctor and Mrs Malcolm. See if there is anything you can do to assist them.’

Adam coughed. His lungs were filled with smoke and he felt nauseous from it. He looked over at the copse anxiously. The men had already made progress and were preventing the fire from spreading and, although the shrubs were still burning, the trees leading up to the village were unharmed. Embers flying up into the air were falling into the narrow strip which had been cleared, just as Adam had predicted they would. They were being rapidly dampened and put out with water from the continuous supply of buckets being passed along.

As he looked about him, surveying the damage to the warehouse, Adam slowly became conscious that the wind had dropped unexpectedly. He looked up at the sky. Damnation, why doesn’t it rain? he muttered. He glanced yet again at the overcast sky, praying silently. Wilson hurried to him. ‘I thinks we’ve about got it under control, Squire. I don’t believe the mill’s in any danger now.’ As he spoke Wilson stared at Adam and a smile spread itself across his grimy face. ‘By God, sir, I thinks it’s going ter rain. Do yer knows, I just felt a drop.’

And Wilson was right. Rain it did. For once in his life, Adam Fairley welcomed the deluge that began to pour out of the sky, rippling down in heavy sheets, drenching them all and slaking the smouldering warehouse and the bushes in the copse. The mill hands stopped working and all of them turned to Adam, their voices rising in one single triumphant cheer.

‘We’re allus grumbling and grousing abart the blinking weather on t’moors, Squire, but this bloody rain’s a gift from ’eaven,’ shouted Eddie, one of the foremen.

Adam grinned. ‘I couldn’t have said it better myself, Eddie.’

Eddie now approached Adam standing with Wilson. ‘Do yer mind if I goes up ter see me mate, Jack Harte, sir? There just might be summat I can do for t’doctor.’

‘Yes, Eddie, please do so. I’m coming in myself.’ Adam rested his hand on Wilson’s shoulder. ‘I think you can manage down here now. By the look of the sky this is no light summer shower.’

‘I agree, sir. I’ll get the men organized with grappling hooks and ladders. We can start clearing up a bit of this mess.’ Wilson glanced at the blackened and charred ruins of the warehouse, still smouldering and steaming under the rain falling in torrents. ‘We was lucky, Squire. We was that!’

Adam nodded. ‘I’ll talk to you later about this, Wilson.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘It baffles me how the damn thing started in the first place.’ Wilson returned Adam’s steely gaze but was silent.

Before he went into the offices Adam called the men together in front of the wreckage. ‘I want to thank you, lads, for pitching in the way you did, with such efficiency and coolness. And also with such bravery. There will be bonuses for all of you in your pay next week, as an expression of my very sincere gratitude. You saved the mill, and incidentally, the village as well. I won’t forget this.’

Some of the men grinned, others touched their foreheads with brief little salutes, yet others nodded. All murmured their thanks. One of the men stepped forward and said, ‘There weren’t owt else we could do, Squire, now was there? It being our mill as well, so ter speak like. And yer didn’t do so bad yerself, Squire, if yer don’t mind me saying so. I thinks I speak for all t’lads when I say yer were a right trooper, sir.’

A half smile flickered in Adam’s eyes. ‘Thank you, Alfie.’ He nodded cordially and left. Adam found Clive Malcolm in his office attending to Jack Harte. Eddie was standing near the window, talking quietly to Edwin.

‘How is he?’ Adam asked from the doorway. Clive looked around and frowned. ‘Not good. But I think he’s going to be all right, Adam. He’s suffering from shock, of course, and bad burns on his back, shoulders, and thighs. Third-degree burns. I’m trying to make him as comfortable as possible, and then I must move him down to the valley hospital as quickly as possible. I shall need your big carriage, Adam, so I can keep him flat. I thought Edwin could ride up to the Hall and send Tom Hardy back with it right away. This is a real emergency with Harte. I just don’t have the equipment and the medicines I need to treat him efficiently. I’ve got to get him into that hospital.’

‘I’ll send Edwin at once.’ Adam inclined his head towards his son. ‘Off you go, my boy, and make it fast. We have no time to lose apparently.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Edwin said, and left.

‘Where are the other men, Clive? And how are they?’

‘Violet’s patching them up in Wilson’s office. They’re not too badly hurt. First-degree burns, that’s all. They will all be fine in a day or so.’

‘Will Jack Harte live?’ asked Adam, sitting down behind his desk wearily, a serious expression clouding his face.

‘Yes, I think so. But to be honest with you, Adam, it’s hard to tell. I don’t know if there are any internal injuries yet. Edwin told me that one of the large bales fell on Harte. He also inhaled a lot of smoke and the heat from that scorches the lungs. I think one lung has possibly already collapsed.’

‘Oh, my God!’ Adam exclaimed, and passed his hand over his eyes. ‘You don’t sound too hopeful.’

‘He’s a strong man, Adam. I’m hoping we can pull him through.’ Clive gave Adam a sympathetic smile. ‘Try not to worry, old chap. After all, it wasn’t your fault. You’re lucky the casualties are so few.’

Adam sighed. ‘I know. But that could easily have been Edwin lying there in that condition, Clive. He did save Edwin’s life, you know. And at the risk of his own. Jack Harte performed an act of such dauntless courage I’ll never forget it. He was fearless and unselfish.’ Adam’s grey-blue eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. ‘You don’t find many men like Jack Harte in this world.’

Clive straightened up and his gaze rested on Adam, quietly intense. ‘I know. He was always a bit different, wasn’t he? But we’ll fight for him, Adam. I promise you that.’

‘All medical bills to me, Clive, for Harte and the other men. And instruct the hospital he has to have the very best of care. Spare no expense and don’t put him in a general ward. I want a private room for him, and whatever else he needs he’s to have.’

There was a light tapping on the door. ‘Come in,’ Adam called. The door opened and one of the bobbin liggers, covered in grime and dirt, stood in the entrance nervously. Adam looked at him in surprise.

‘Yes, son, what is it?’

The boy hesitated. ‘It’s about me dad,’ he said, looking over at Jack, his lips trembling. ‘Is he-is he?’ he began tremulously, tears brimming into his eyes.

Adam leapt up and strode across the floor. He brought the boy into the room gently, putting his arm around his shoulders.

‘It’s Frank, Jack’s son, sir,’ Eddie volunteered from his stance at the window.

‘Come along, Frank,’ Adam said softly, his arm still encircling the boy’s shoulders. Tears rolled down Frank’s face as he stood staring at his father. ‘Is he dead?’ he finally managed to say in a choked voice.

‘Of course he isn’t, Frank,’ Adam reassured him with the utmost gentleness. ‘He has been badly injured, I won’t lie to you about that. But Dr Mac has made him comfortable and as soon as my carriage arrives we are going to transport him to the hospital in the valley. He will get the very best of medical care there.’

Adam pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the tears from Frank’s face. ‘Now, you must be a brave boy, and you mustn’t worry. Your father will be better in no time at all.’