one part of it and then
another, he was unable to move any of that tree, for all his great
strength. Then, very unexpectedly, sticking his head around under the
lower branches next the ground, he discovered what seemed to offer some
possibilities as a road to Arethusa. He started exploration, and very
suddenly, he was right beside her.

Now that his anxiety for her safety was no longer rampant, Timothy
could see for himself that Arethusa had not a scratch, he remembered
the present state of their relationship. That look of sternness which
made his young face seem so much older settled down, and he made
business-like preparations to help her get out, breaking off small
branches all about him.

"Do you think you could crawl back the way I came in here, or do you
want me to go back up to the house and get something to cut the tree
away?"

But Arethusa was loath to leave just yet. This seemed so much like old
times, the way he had come at her call, when he had used to help her
down from hay-stacks which she had climbed too rashly, and rescue her
from all sorts of other strange situations. She could not see his face,
and so she clasped his arm, gratefully, as she had used to do in those
other days. Timothy stiffened a little, but she did not notice it.

"Oh, Timothy!" she exclaimed. "Just suppose you hadn't come! I might
have had to stay here all night long!"

"I reckon not! Somebody would have come."

She was chilled by his tone. And when she looked up at him, his grim
expression made her draw her hand away from his arm, abruptly.

"How did you get in?" she asked, with dignity.

Timothy indicated the road.

So a little procession started back through that gap in the branches,
which Arethusa, had she not been so frightened, might have found for
herself without bothering him. He went first, to show the way, and she
followed, both on hands and knees. He was out when he heard her scream.

"My hair! My hair is all caught! And I can't get it undone at all!"

She had not really asked for his help, but Timothy turned and crept
under the tree once more. Arethusa was badly caught. Her red hair had
been grabbed by the crookedest possible branch and it was all wound
around it as if the Hollow Tree were so determined to keep her
underneath it that either the branch or some of her hair would have to
be cut off, before it would let her go. And Arethusa's own efforts to
get loose had only succeeded in fastening her tighter.