"No. Only from the presence of the black patch, the detective who had charge of the case thought it had been worn for the purpose of disguise. There was a great stir about the matter, as Colonel Hall was well known as a Government official. He came from some West Indian island, I believe, where he was Administrator or something," ended Mrs. Lilly vaguely. "Well, then, tell me all from the beginning. Mrs. Snow has very little to go on, if that is all about the black patch. I saw Mr. Alpenny's murderer wearing it, you know; but neither Mrs. Snow nor any one else saw Colonel Hall's assassin with it on." Mrs. Lilly nodded. "I heard of your experience. My dear, you should not run about the woods at night: it isn't ladylike. I wonder you didn't faint with horror when you saw the man!" "I should have, had I known of this theory about Colonel Hall having been killed by such a man. As it was, I felt too worn-out to be startled by anything. Where ignorance is bliss. Go on, Mrs. Lilly; tell me all Mrs. Snow does not know." "I think she knows a very great deal," remarked the housekeeper viciously. "I never could bear that lady--a sour, bad-tempered woman if ever there was one. She was a governess, you know. Yes; she and Mrs. Hall were at school together, and Mrs. Hall made her a kind of companion. After the murder, and when Mrs. Hall went back to the West Indies, Mrs. Snow--a Miss Duncan she was then--stopped on and married the rector, who was a fool. I am quite sure he has regretted ever since that he made her his wife." "I don't like Mrs. Snow myself," said Beatrice thoughtfully. "And who is this Lady Watson who knew my mother?" "I cannot tell you. I have never set eyes on her. Some school friend of Mrs. Snow's, I dare say. Mrs. Snow always said everybody had been to school with her. I believe she told lies," finished Mrs. Lilly with great contempt. "Tell me about Mrs. Hall and the Colonel?" "He was a tall, handsome man, very kind, and stately in his bearing, my dear. Mr. Paslow--the father of Master Vivian--knew him very well, and asked him to stop here." "With Mrs. Hall?" "Yes. But Mrs. Hall only came for one night, and that was the night of the murder. I don't think she got on well with her husband." "What was she like to look at?" "A small dark woman, very grave, and sparing of words. I think she had something on her mind. She seemed to be very much afraid of her husband, and rarely spoke to him. She came down with a one-year-old baby, and a nurse--a delicate-looking woman, far gone in consumption, poor soul." "Just like my mother," said Beatrice; "she died of consumption, you know, Mrs. Lilly. At least Mr. Alpenny said so."