But Verity could not tell.
In the twilight it was, of course, easy to make mistakes, but Ingred began to have a strong suspicion that neither of the mysterious partners belonged to the school. They were certainly not members of the Fifth or Sixth. Perhaps some of the Juniors had forced themselves in? No, they were too tall for Juniors.
"Perhaps they are ghosts!" shivered Verity.
"Ghosts don't bump into people. These are real substantial flesh and blood!"
"It's so dark, we can hardly see."
"Well, I vote we keep close to them, and next time we get near a lantern, we'll turn the tables and bump into them, and try to see who they are."
It was easier said than done, however; the strangers seemed to have changed their tactics, and instead of pursuing Ingred and Verity now endeavored to avoid them. No "elusive Pimpernels" could have been more difficult to follow. They would come quite close and then suddenly dodge and glide away, only to reappear and repeat the same tantalizing performance. Ingred and Verity began to get on their mettle. It was so evidently done on purpose that they were fully determined to catch the errant pair. After a long game at hide-and-seek they at last managed to dance along side them, and laying violent hands upon them, to drag them into the light of a lantern. As Ingred gazed for a moment in perplexity, the Early Victorian lady gave a most un-Early Victorian wink inside the poke bonnet.
"Hereward! How dare you!" gasped his sister.
A firm hand drew her away from the light, and in the shelter of a laurel bush, a voice, choking with laughter, proclaimed:
"Done you, old girl! Done you brown! What about that bet? I told you you'd never know me!"