Mollie quoted, as they came to a standstill at the top of a long incline. In the distance they saw the sea gleaming somewhat greyly under a brief spell of sunshine. All around them the trees and hedges sparkled with raindrops, green and cool and wet. "They look like green diamonds," said Dick, letting his cap drop beside Jerry's and allowing the reins to fall loosely on Long John's back, as the pony edged to the side of the road and began to nibble the grass. "Rather different from the gold-diggings, isn't it?" This remark set the ball rolling. "What do you think it was?" Mollie began. "Blessed if I know," Dick answered, with a shake of his head, "blue magic of some sort. Unless we all dreamt it." "No, it wasn't a dream," said Jerry thoughtfully. "It was simply psychical phenomena. I've heard of things just as queer. Awfully funny things happen in India. And look at the 'phantom armies' in France." "Rot," said Dick briefly. "_I_ think it was a kink in Mollie's brain, and she passed it on to me. We do, sometimes. Mother says all twins do. And your silly head was as empty as usual and you psychicked it from me." "Rot," said Jerry, with as much decision as Dick. "I saw the blooming parrot as soon as you did, if not sooner." "It wasn't rot," Mollie said decidedly; "whatever it was it wasn't rot. _I_ think--" she paused for a moment to consider her words--"I believe it may have been just what Prue said it was. We travelled back in Time. It sounds impossible, but if you come to think of it lots of things that happen now would have sounded impossible to those children, or at any rate to Papa and Mamma. If Alice in Wonderland could have seen forty years ahead she would have found it quite easy to believe six impossible things before breakfast. There's submarines for one, and flying, and wireless, especially telephones, and the cinema. If we could have taken the Campbells to a moving picture of a submarine submerging, with aeroplanes flying round, and a lecture wirelessed from America coming out of a gramophone, and the music done with a piano-player, Time-travelling would not have seemed much more wonderful to them." Dick shook his head again. "It's different," he said. "All those things might have seemed very wonderful and _almost_ impossible, but they weren't _quite_ impossible. Time-travelling is." "But we've done it," said Mollie. Nobody answered. There did not appear to be an answer to that statement. "Have you ever heard," Mollie said at last, speaking slowly and looking at the boys with solemn eyes, "of a thing called Einstein's Theory of Relatittey--I mean Rela_tiv_ity--Rel-a-_tiv_-ity?" "Old Bibs jawed us about it one day," Dick answered, "but he said no one could understand it except the chap himself and not always him. So he didn't expect us to, which was a good job for everybody."