The girl was coming and going from the kitchen in the discharge of her duties, and on one of her journeys she brought a parchment map in her hand, saying: "Here's a paper that Jim, the driver, told me to show you.

It gives all the roads atween Kendal and Carlisle.

So you may see for yourself whether your friends could get round about to Wy'bern." Robbie spread out the map on the kitchen table, and at once proceeded, with the help of the chambermaid, to trace out the roads that were open to Ralph and Sim to take.

It was a labyrinthine web, that map, and it taxed the utmost ingenuity of both Robbie and his little acquaintance to make head or tail of it.
"Here you are," cried Robbie, with the air of a man making a valuable discovery, "here's the milestones--one, two, three--them's milestones, thou knows." "Tut, you goose; that's only the scale," said the girl; "see what's printed, 'Scale of miles.'" "Oh, ey, lass," said Robbie, not feeling sure what "scale" might mean, but too shrewd to betray his ignorance a second time in the presence of this learned chambermaid.
The riddle, nevertheless, defied solution.

However much they pored over the map, it was still a maze of lines.
"It's as widderful as poor old Sim's face," said Robbie.
Robbie and the chambermaid put their heads together in more senses than one.