though a deluge were falling, and that already the ground beneath
their feet were becoming a lake.

"We might have too much of this, Jacko."

"My word! yes."

"I don't want to have the Mary flooded again."

"My word! no."

But by the time they reached the wool-shed it was over. From the
first drop to the last, there had hardly been a space of twenty
minutes. But there was a noise of waters as the little streams washed
hither and thither to their destined courses and still the horses
splashed, and still there was the feeling of an incipient deluge.
When they reached the wool-shed, Harry again got off his horse, and
Jacko, dismounting also, hitched the two animals to the post and
followed his master into the building. Harry struck a wax match, and
holding it up, strove to look round the building by the feeble light
which it shed. It was a remarkable edifice, built in the shape of a
great T, open at the sides, with a sharp-pitched timber roof covered
with felt, which came down within four feet of the ground. It was
calculated to hold about four hundred sheep at a time, and was
divided into pens of various sizes, partitioned off for various
purposes. If Harry Heathcote was sure of any thing, he was sure that
his wool-shed was the best that had ever been built in this district.

"By Jimini! what's that?" said Jacko.