"Who is Mrs. Jarsell?" asked Lillian, artfully and cautiously. "She is an old lady who lives at The Grange with another old lady, her former governess, Miss Armour. Both are charming. If you are dull here, perhaps, Miss Moon, you would like to meet them?"
"Later, later," put in Mrs. Bolstreath, hurriedly, "thank you for the suggestion, Miss Vincent. Meanwhile, we wish to explore the country. It is a charming neighborhood, although very quiet in many respects." Mildred agreed and then began to plan excursions to this place and that, with the idea of making the stay of the visitors at Sheepeak pleasant. So agreeably did she behave and took such trouble in designing trips that Mrs. Bolstreath revised her opinion and began to believe that so nice a girl could not possibly know anything of Mrs. Jarsell's doings, whatever knowledge her uncle might be possessed of. And Dan, walking at top speed along the high road in a vain attempt to quieten his mind, was convinced that the inventor had some such knowledge. The idea which had brought him to his feet, and had sent him out to work off his excitement, was that the inventor was responsible for Mrs. Jarsell's presence in London at unexpected moments. She financed him and retained him at her elbow, so to speak, that she might utilize his capabilities and his clever inventions. If, on the day of the London to York race, Mrs. Jarsell was at the Peacock Hotel about the hour of nine o'clock--as she certainly was, on the evidence of Mrs. Pelgrin, who had no obvious reason to tell a lie--she could not have got to London by train or motor in time to murder Durwin. Yet she was assuredly at Blackheath, if the cinematograph was to be believed. Dan had hitherto been puzzled to reconcile apparent impossibilities, but at tea-time the solution of the problem had suddenly flashed into his mind. Mrs. Jarsell had travelled to town on an aeroplane. "It is about one hundred and sixty miles from this place to town," muttered Dan, walking very fast, and talking aloud to himself in his excitement, "so she could accomplish that distance with ease in three hours, considering that Vincent's machine can fly at sixty miles in sixty minutes. He said so and I proved that he spoke truly when I experimented with the machine he lent me. Mrs. Jarsell was at the Peacock Hotel at nine o'clock, and the cinematograph showed she was at Blackheath at one o'clock. The race started then, and Durwin was killed shortly afterwards. Sixty miles an hour means one hundred and eighty miles in three hours. Say she started at half-past nine--which she could easily do, leaving Mrs. Pelgrin immediately for Vincent's place--she could reach London by half-past twelve, if not earlier, seeing she had just one hundred and sixty miles to go. There would be no difficulty in her reaching Blackheath and stabbing Durwin at the time the death took place." Halliday was convinced that in this way the miracle of Mrs. Jarsell had taken place. No other means of transit could have landed her at the place where Durwin had met with his death. Of course, this assumption intimated that Mrs. Jarsell was an accomplished aviator, and that there had been no hitch in the journey from Sheepeak to Blackheath. But these were not impossibilities, for Vincent probably had taught the woman how to fly, and perhaps had handled the machine himself. There was room for two in the aeroplane, as Dan very well knew, since he had taken Penn for a flight himself, and the vehicle used was probably built on the same lines as the one lent. Since aviation was yet in its infancy, there was certainly a possibility that such a journey could not take place without accidents or hindrance. But, as inferior machines had accomplished greater distances, Dan quite believed that Mrs. Jarsell, with or without Vincent as pilot, had reached London in one smooth stretch of flying. On other occasions she might not have been so successful, but on this one she probably had, for to get to Blackheath in time to commit the crime, it would have been necessary for her to use rightfully every second of the given time. No wonder with such a means of transit at her disposal she could prove an advantageous alibi, when occasion demanded. Also, since the late conquest of the air afforded her the opportunity of swift travelling, greatly in excess of other human inventions, it was quite reasonable that she should live so far from the scene of her criminal exploits. Thinking thus, Halliday stumbled across the very person who was in his thought. He rushed with bent head along the roads and unconsciously mounted towards the vast spaces of the moorlands, stretching under gray skies. Thus--and he swiftly decided that the collision was meant--he ran into Mrs. Jarsell, who approached in the opposite direction. She laughed and expostulated, as if Dan was in the wrong, although she must have seen him coming, and the road was wide enough for her to move to one side. "Really, Mr. Halliday, you require the whole country to move in," said Mrs. Jarsell in her heavy way, and with an affectation of joviality. "I--I--I beg your pardon," stammered Dan, not quite himself, and stared at her as though she had suddenly risen out of the earth. Indeed, so far as he was concerned, she had done so, ignorant as he was of her approach. The woman was arrayed in her favorite white, but, as the day was chilly, she wore a voluminous cloak of scarlet silk quilted and padded and warm both in looks and wear. Her black eyes, set in her olive-hued face, peered from under her white hair as watchfully as ever. At the present moment, her heavy countenance wore an expression of amusement at the startled looks of the young man, and she commented on them with ponderous jocularity. "One would think I was a ghost, Mr. Halliday. You will admit that I am a very substantial ghost," and she shook her silver-mounted cane playfully at him. "I didn't expect to meet you here," said Dan, drawing a deep breath, and thinking how best he could introduce the subject of Lillian. "Nor did I expect to meet you," responded Mrs. Jarsell, still phlegmatically playful. "Have you risen from the earth, or dropped from the skies? I did not even know that you were in the neighborhood." Dan grimly decided that this last statement was false, since he had been a whole two days at the Peacock Hotel, and he was certain Mrs. Jarsell must have heard of his visit. Also of the ladies sheltering under Mrs. Pelgrin's wing, for in the country gossip is more prevalent than in town. "I came up for a day or two, or three or four," said Dan, still staring. "You don't appear to be very decided in your own mind," rejoined Mrs. Jarsell, dryly, and sat down on a large block of granite, which was embedded amongst the heather; "our neighborhood evidently has a fascination for you," her eye searched his face carefully. "I am pleased, as we are proud of our scenery hereabouts. Those who come once, come twice; quite a proverb, isn't it? Is your friend, Mr. Laurance, with you?"
"Not on this occasion," answered Dan, coolly, and coming to the point. "I came with two ladies, Miss Moon and her companion. They are stopping at the Peacock Hotel for a short time."
"Miss Moon! Miss Moon!" mused Mrs. Jarsell, "oh, yes, the young lady you are engaged to marry. The daughter of that poor man who was murdered." "You have an excellent memory, Mrs. Jarsell."
"We have little to exercise our memories in this dull place," said the woman graciously, and with a motherly air, "you don't ask after Miss Armour, I observe. That is very unkind of you, as you are a great favorite with her."
"Miss Armour is my very good friend," responded Halliday, cautiously, "and so are you, since you induced Mr. Vincent to lend me the aeroplane."
"I am as glad that I did that as I am sorry you lost the race, Mr. Halliday."
"Fortune of war," said Dan, lightly, "we can't always be successful you know, Mrs. Jarsell. I wish you had seen the start; it was grand."
"I wish I had," said the woman, lying glibly, "but it was impossible for me to leave Miss Armour on that day, as she had bad health. In fact, Mr. Vincent wished to go also and see how his machine worked; but he could not get away either. Still," added Mrs. Jarsell, with a cheerful air, "perhaps it is as well, so far as I am concerned, that I could not go. Aviation seems to be very dangerous, and I should have been afraid for your safety."
"Oh, I shall never come to harm in the air, I hope," responded Dan, with emphasis, "you must let me take you up some day." Mrs. Jarsell shuddered. "I should be terrified out of my wits," she protested, "fancy a heavy woman, such as I am, trying to emulate a bird. Why, I am quite sure I would fall and smash like an egg, even supposing there is any machine capable of bearing my none too trifling weight."