"Yes, I agree, Mr Kemball. It is a complete mystery. Ah! how unfortunate that poor Guy never lived to tell you his theory concerning the strange affair. But," she added, "our present action must concern dear old Dad. What do you suggest we should do? How can we give him warning?" "I can suggest nothing," was my reply. "Tramu is watching them both. Probably he is fully aware of some ingenious conspiracy in progress." "Ah! I foresaw danger in his association with her," the girl declared, pale and anxious in her despair. "But why has not your father returned to Lydford? Surely while his whereabouts could be preserved from Tramu he would be safer there than anywhere!" "You might be watched, and if you visited us, you might be followed. Tramu is, as you know, one of the most famous detectives in Europe." "And he has, in your father, one who is a past-master in the art of evasion. But," I added, "tell me frankly, Miss Seymour, do you anticipate that he is anxious to possess himself of the bronze cylinder?" She hesitated again. "Well--yes. As you ask me for a plain reply, I tell you that I believe his intention is to gain possession of it." "Why?" "Because of the great secret therein contained." "And of what nature is this remarkable secret?" I demanded eagerly, much puzzled by her response. "Ah! how can we tell? It is a secret from all, save to the person who shall dare break it open and examine it." "And dare you break it open, Miss Seymour?" I asked. "No--a thousand times no!" she cried, alarmed at the very suggestion. "I would rather see it taken up and cast deep into the sea. Why don't you do that, Mr Kemball? Take it out in a boat and sink it deep in the waters, where no man--not even divers--could ever recover it. Sink it deeply," she urged, "so that all fears may be dispelled, and peace and love may reign." But I shook my head, expressing regret at my utter inability to accede to her desire. And then very slowly we retraced our steps back to the hotel, where an unexpected surprise was, we found, awaiting us. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. CONTAINS AN OMINOUS MESSAGE. As we re-entered the pretty winter garden the hall-porter gave Asta a telegram, which she tore open hastily and read, afterwards handing it to me in silence. To my surprise, I found it to be from Shaw, informing her that he was on his way to Lydford, and asking her to return home that day. The message had been handed in at Bath Railway Station, therefore it appeared that he was already on his way. "Is there not danger, distinct danger, in this, Mr Kemball?" she queried, in great anxiety. "If Tramu were watching last night, then he will be followed home!" "I don't see how we can prevent him from going to Lydford now," I said. "We have no address where a telegram would reach him." Truly the situation was a critical one. Harvey Shaw, all unconscious of being watched, was actually returning to his highly respectable home.