“It is simply to wait till about one or two in the morning, when everyone will most likely be asleep, and then to climb up the side of the room here, and force our way through the thatch.”
“Go on,” said Chumbley, spitting again, and making his friend wince.
“Then we could climb along the ridge of the roof till we get to the farther end, where there is a big tree resting its boughs over the place. Once there. I think we could get down.”
“And if we could not?”
“We’d get down some other way.”
“Why didn’t we try that before?” said Chumbley; “it is quite easy.”
“Because it was so easy that we did not think it worth trying.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Chumbley. “I’ve been thinking out a plan too, which perhaps might do as well. I was going to tell you about it to-night, only oddly enough, you proposed this.”
“What is your plan?” said Hilton, yawning.
“Well, you see, I thought of getting out by the roof, breaking through the walls, and cutting the bars of the window; but they neither of them seemed to fit, so I tried another plan.”