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.’
Frank looked up at Adam anxiously. ‘Are yer sure, Squire? Yer wouldn’t fib ter me, would yer?’
Adam smiled kindly. ‘No, I wouldn’t, Frank. I am telling you the truth, son.’
‘Your father is resting comfortably,’ Clive interjected, ‘and as soon as I get him to the hospital we’ll be able to treat him properly.’
Frank looked from Adam to Clive doubtfully, sniffing and suppressing his tears. He was silent and thoughtful for a moment and then he addressed Eddie. ‘He will get better, Eddie, won’t he?’ he whispered.
Eddie stepped forward, forcing a cheerful smile on to his drawn face. ‘Aye, lad, he will that! Yer father’s a strong ’un. Now, don’t yer fret yerself, lad. Come on, I’ll take yer ter yer Aunt Lily’s.’ Eddie threw a swift glance at Adam, who nodded acquiescently. Adam patted Frank’s shoulder. ‘Run along with Eddie, Frank. And the doctor will stop by to see you later.’ Adam’s eyes examined Frank, sudden concern in them. ‘Are you all right, son? You weren’t hurt, were you?’
‘No, Squire,’ said Frank, still sniffling.
‘All right, then, off you go. And thank you, Eddie, for all your help. I appreciate it.’
‘I just did me best, sir,’ said Eddie, smiling briefly. ‘I’ll be taking the lad ter his aunt’s. She’ll look after him.’ Eddie grasped Frank’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly, and the two of them left, Eddie murmuring consoling words to Frank.
‘I think I had better go into Wilson’s office and see the other men, Clive. I want to thank them and make sure they are comfortable,’ Adam remarked.
‘Let Violet take a look at those hands of yours, Adam,’ Clive ordered firmly. ‘They look a little raw to me.’
Later that afternoon Adam strode up and down the library at Fairley Hall, a brandy and soda in his bandaged hand, a thoughtful expression on his face. Wilson, who had just arrived, sat on the Chesterfield, watching him closely, quietly nursing his whisky.
Adam finally stopped his incessant pacing and sat down in the chair opposite. He lit a cigarette, drew on it, and said, ‘How do you think the fire started in the warehouse, Wilson? It went up very suddenly and burned rather rapidly for my liking. I questioned Edwin earlier, and he said the wooden skips were blazing furiously when he opened the door, and that the first stack of bales were already flaring. I suppose the flying embers could have ignited the wool, and the draught from the door obviously fanned the flames, but it’s still a mystery to me. Any ideas?’
Wilson was silent, his mouth tight and drawn, his face a picture of gravity. He sighed and looked directly at Adam. ‘I could hazard a guess, Squire, but it’s not a very palatable one.’
Adam leaned forward and stared at Wilson, fixing him intently. ‘Speak