He was completely at a loss to understand what she meant, and he said so plainly. Instead of explaining herself she put a question.
"Do you remember the night of the 11th of March, between five and six years since?"
He considered for a moment.
"No," he said, "I don't remember it. Excuse me Mrs. Callender, I have affairs of my own to attend to which cause me some anxiety—-"
"Let me assist your memory, Mr. Lismore, and I will leave you to your affairs. On the date that I have referred to you were on your way to the railway-station at Bexmore, to catch the night express from the north to London."
As a hint that his time was valuable the ship-owner had hitherto remained standing. He now took his customary seat, and began to listen with some interest. Mrs. Callender had produced her effect on him already.
"It was absolutely necessary," she proceeded, "that you should be on board your ship in the London docks at nine o'clock the next morning. If you had lost the express the vessel would have sailed without you."
The expression of his face began to change to surprise.
"Who told you that?" he asked.
"You shall hear directly. On your way into the town your carriage was stopped by an obstruction on the highroad. The people of Bexmore were looking at a house on fire."