Mrs. Romilly was certainly worried on account of the yawl, but Pamela told her what Addie had said about Netheroot or Tamerton. Also when the storm had passed she could see for herself that the water was hardly more rough. There was nothing to suggest danger. Later on the telegram came; but not till after Pamela had started off on her delayed walk. She went after five-o’clock tea, into a wonderful washed world, where every plant, bush and hedge seemed to have been touched with a magic brush, and set in jewels. The sandy soil oozed beneath her feet, and rills of water streamed down the hill in winding gullies. Pamela whistled softly to herself as she went; it was good to be alive on such an evening, and she felt very hopeful about her chances of making discoveries, chiefly because she felt so buoyantly cheerful. Folly Ho was perhaps a mile from Bell Bay. Timothy Batt promised--or rather his wife promised for him--that the bicycle should go to Peterock next day but one. Next day was station day. Alternate journeys--Five Trees and Peterock. "Pity we didn’t have it this morning, missie, Batt’s gone to Peterock to-day." Pamela said "never mind", and meant it. Her object was Woodrising. She sped back along the wet road with eager haste, and checked not till she came to the long hill, and the white wall enclosing those thickly wooded grounds and white buildings. Then she did what she had planned to do--got through the hedge on to the wooded hill above Woodrising, made her way down slowly through the trees till she reached the barrier wall, and then began to follow the course of the wall round the whole of the little estate. She believed there would be some chance, which she could make use of, either to get in, or see in, for surely there must be outlets! Gates, or gaps, or ladders, or something that could be made use of. However, she went round two sides of it--the wall at the top, and the long side wall down the hill--and found no opportunity. She knew too that she must not count on the wall edging the road, because no burglar even could attempt its slippery height. That was three sides! She was thinking of this, and that she might never see more than the top windows, slate roof, and chimneys of the tantalizing house, when she came on a ladder--a short ladder set conveniently up against the wall--positively inviting her to mount it. She went up cautiously and looked over. It was at the corner, in the angles of the side and lower walls, and she saw that within was a high rubbish heap that obviously formed a bed for vegetable marrows. Heaped-up straw mould, and softness--the easiest thing in the world to jump down on to. But that was rather an extreme measure, so Pamela went back down three steps and considered the question.