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On
the
ground
the
groups
of
villagers
were
still
occupied
in
doing
all
they
could
to
keep
down
the
conflagration
,
which
was
not
much
.
They
were
all
tinged
orange
,
and
backed
up
by
shadows
of
varying
pattern
.
Round
the
corner
of
the
largest
stack
,
out
of
the
direct
rays
of
the
fire
,
stood
a
pony
,
bearing
a
young
woman
on
its
back
.
By
her
side
was
another
woman
,
on
foot
.
These
two
seemed
to
keep
at
a
distance
from
the
fire
,
that
the
horse
might
not
become
restive
.
"
He
’
s
a
shepherd
,
"
said
the
woman
on
foot
.
"
Yes
—
he
is
.
See
how
his
crook
shines
as
he
beats
the
rick
with
it
.
And
his
smock
-
frock
is
burnt
in
two
holes
,
I
declare
!
A
fine
young
shepherd
he
is
too
,
ma
’
am
.
"
"
Whose
shepherd
is
he
?
"
said
the
equestrian
in
a
clear
voice
.
"
Don
’
t
know
,
ma
’
am
.
"
"
Don
’
t
any
of
the
others
know
?
"
"
Nobody
at
all
—
I
’
ve
asked
’
em
.
Quite
a
stranger
,
they
say
.
"
The
young
woman
on
the
pony
rode
out
from
the
shade
and
looked
anxiously
around
.
"
Do
you
think
the
barn
is
safe
?
"
she
said
.
"
D
’
ye
think
the
barn
is
safe
,
Jan
Coggan
?
"
said
the
second
woman
,
passing
on
the
question
to
the
nearest
man
in
that
direction
.
"
Safe
-
now
—
leastwise
I
think
so
.
If
this
rick
had
gone
the
barn
would
have
followed
.
’
Tis
that
bold
shepherd
up
there
that
have
done
the
most
good
—
he
sitting
on
the
top
o
’
rick
,
whizzing
his
great
long
-
arms
about
like
a
windmill
.
"
