"But for what reason is he so anxious to secure your arrest?" I asked, looking straight into her face. "Cannot you tell me the truth, Miss Seymour? Remember, I am your friend," I added earnestly. "Please do not ask me," she urged. "I cannot betray the man who has been father to me all these years," she added in a low, pained voice. "But are you quite certain that he is as devoted to you as he professes?" I asked very gravely. "Absolutely. Am I not the only real friend he has?" I recollected that letter written by the man who had loved her, and the allegations he had made. "Do you know," I said, "the other night I had burglars at my home. They tried to break open the safe which contains that mysterious cylinder given into my charge by Mr Melvill Arnold." "The cylinder!" she gasped, instantly turning pale as death. "Ah! that hateful cylinder, which brings upon its possessor misfortune and disaster. Why don't you get rid of it, Mr Kemball?" "I have. It is now in the Safe Deposit Company's vaults in Chancery Lane." She held her breath, her gaze fixed upon me. Then involuntarily she laid her slim white hand upon my coat-sleeve, and said-- "I--I always fear for your safety, Mr Kemball, while that thing is in your possession. Give it away. Destroy it--anything--only get rid of it!" "But I cannot until the third of November. I accepted a sacred trust, remember, given by a dying man," I said. "Yes--but--" "But what?" I asked. Then in a low voice, as I bent towards her, I added: "Miss Seymour, I have deep suspicion that your father--a friend of Arnold's--knows what the cylinder contains, and is extremely eager to get possession of it. Is not that so?" She was silent. Her lips moved nervously. Her indecision to speak told me the truth. We were friends, therefore she could not deliberately lie to me. A faint smile overspread her pale, refined features. That was all, but it told its own tale. "Well," I said, "the burglars, whoever they were, were experts, and only the electric alarm prevented the theft. What the ancient cylinder really contains I cannot imagine. Indeed, I am filled with anxiety and impatience for the dawn of November the third, when, without doubt, I shall learn the truth." "Yes, no doubt," she said in a slow, tremulous tone. "And the truth will surely be a stranger one than you have ever dreamed." Our _tete-a-tete_ was suddenly interrupted by a woman entering the lounge; therefore, as Asta had her hat and coat with her, I suggested that we should walk down to the beach, an idea which she readily adopted. Then, when there was no one to overhear, I told her of my adventure in the night, of Tramu's inquiries in the neighbourhood of Ridgehill Manor, and of his surveillance of the movements of Mrs Olliffe and her father. "Tramu!" she gasped, her face white as death. "Then he has found poor Dad! Why didn't you tell me this before?"