By
the time he returned, he found Josiah half way up the chimney.
"Here are pegs," he called out, as Oliver sent the ray of the lighted
candle upward. "'Tis easy enough to see how our prisoner escaped. Fool
that I was not to have searched this place," and he let himself down
again, where the bewildered group stood around the chimney-piece.
"The fault is mine alone," cried Oliver furiously; "let us get out on
the roof and see if we can discover how he made his descent to the
ground."
"By the great elm," exclaimed Pamela, who had unfastened the shutters
with Josiah's help; "see, the branches overhang the roof just here, and
I think there are some pieces of the bark on the ground below." All of
which was true, and quick-witted of Pamela; but Moppet could have
explained the presence of the bits of bark, for, as it happened, the
child had emptied her apron under the elm the day before, and the bark
was some she had gathered in the orchard for the bits of fungus which,
at night, were phosphorescent, and which Moppet called "fairy lamps."
"True," said Josiah, leaning out of the window, "and there are
footsteps in the tall grass yonder," pointing westward, where his keen
eye perceived a fresh path broken in the meadow.
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