They looked at each other searchingly. "I was in bed before that," said Pamela. "I don’t know the least what you are talking about, Crow, but you seem to have a lively maggot in your brain about me." "It isn’t anything in my brain--it’s a question of the eyesight of two people." "Who’s the other person?" "Addie. We both saw you----" "Oh dear," ejaculated Pamela in an exasperated voice, "do you mean to say you think you saw me out of doors just before ten o’clock, because you may as well disabuse your mind of the idea at once. Addie doesn’t count, he leaps to conclusions. He’d say the Little Pilgrim was me for two pins, and believe it if he was in an imaginative mood. Well, you did _not_ see me, Crow." "My dear girl, I’m awfully sorry you feel vexed about it." "Wouldn’t you be vexed, if people practically told you you were telling lies," said Pamela, fingering the pages of her book with unsettled fingers. "I don’t. I assure you I don’t," said Christobel urgently "but please do look at our side of the question. Now listen, Pam. We got in to Five Trees about 9.25, we came straight along with a moon as bright as day, and just before we came to Folly Ho corner we heard some one running. _I_ thought it sounded like a girl--unless it was a boy in running shoes--the feet were so light. Of course we were interested--down past the little grass patch at the crossroad came _you_----" Pamela made a gesture of speaking. "All right, then," went on Crow, "not you--a girl so exactly like you that there was no difference. She had a dark skirt and jumper--like yours--it was most certainly blue--lighter stockings and shoes--I mean not black. She had no hat on, and a heavy tail of plaited hair hanging down. As she ran I saw it swing--like yours does. Now, are you surprised we thought it was you?" "What did you do?" asked Pamela. "Simply stared. Then Addie gave a whistle shriek, fearfully loud. She stopped and looked over her shoulder, then she ran on. Honestly I admit we were savage. Just consider, Pam; it appeared to be you beyond question, and we naturally concluded you were just out for the fun of it, and didn’t want us to see you. Of course it looked as though you didn’t mean to stop on purpose." "Funny," allowed Pamela in a milder tone, "well, what did you do next? I suppose you saw where this very surprising girl went to?" Christobel felt this was the weak part of her story, but she told it conscientiously. "I see. So the girl was swallowed up by the cloud! Are you sure you ever saw her at all, Crow?" "Never was so sure of a thing in my life," declared Christobel, slipping off the table edge, and going to the window-seat, where she took a more comfortable seat, "we saw the girl. Who she is, I don’t pretend to say, as you say she is not you. It was just in that bit of road outside Woodrising that we lost sight of her. Thinking she was surely you I made Addie go into Fuchsia Cottage and ask Miss Lasarge."