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." "Oh, I think there is, Mrs. Jarsell. Some machines can carry two, you know, and lately in France an aviator took five or six people from one given point to another. It is quite safe." Mrs. Jarsell shook her head seriously. "I think not, since aviation is yet in its infancy. In five years, if I live as long, I may venture, but now--no, thank you, Mr. Halliday." "Most ladies are afraid, certainly. Even Miss Moon, who is plucky, will not let me take her for a fly." "Miss Moon, of course. I was quite forgetting her. I hope you will bring her to see me and Miss Armour." "If she stays here, certainly. But I think of returning to town to-morrow, so I may not be able to bring her. I daresay Mrs. Bolstreath will, however," ended Dan, quite certain in his own mind that the chaperon would find some good excuse to avoid the visit. "I shall be delighted," Mrs. Jarsell murmured vaguely, "how have you been, Mr. Halliday, since I saw you last?" It seemed to Dan that she asked this question with intention, and he was entirely willing to give her a frank answer. In frankness, as in taking Lillian under the guns of the enemy, lay the safety of both. Halliday was convinced of this. "I have been rather worried," he said, slowly, and with a side-glance at Mrs. Jarsell's watchful face. "I had an adventure." "I love adventures," replied the woman, heavily, "and this one?" "Well. I was hustled into a taxi-cab and carried in a drugged condition to some place where I met with a collection of scoundrels. A kind of murder-gang, you might call it, who slay, blackmail, and thieve for the sake of power." "Rather a strange reason," said Mrs. Jarsell, equably, and not at all moved, "I should say the reason was for money." "That, with power," explained Dan, "but, indeed, this society appears to be governed on wonderful principles, such as one would ascribe to honest men." "In what way?" Mrs. Jarsell was quite curious in a detached manner. "Well, the members are chaste and sober and industrious." "They must be virtuous. You are describing a society of saints." "Quite so; only these saints apply their virtues to crime. They have a head who is called Queen Beelzebub." Mrs. Jarsell shuddered and drew lines on the dust of the road with her cane slowly and carefully. "Did you see her?" she asked, "it's a horrid name, full of horrid possibilities." "No, I did not see her or anyone," said Dan, frankly, "the room was in darkness save for a red light around Queen Beelzebub's mask." "Oh, this person wore a mask! How did you know she was a woman?" "Well, you see, the name is Queen Beelzebub." "That might be taken by a man to hide the truth."