As together we strolled about the beautiful well-kept grounds, and as he showed me his motor garage, wherein stood four cars of various types, his electric lighting plant and electric pumps for the water supply, I tried to obtain from him some further information regarding the man Arnold. But to all my ingenious inquiries he remained dumb. Therefore I turned my attention to Asta, and discovered that he had adopted her when she was left alone a little child of eight. "My life, Mr Kemball, has been very full of change and variety. Sometimes for months I have been compelled to live in strict seclusion-- sometimes in places hardly civilised. I spent a year in the mountains of Northern Albania, for instance, living with one of the mountain tribes; and on another occasion necessity compelled me to live for eight months in an obscure village in Corfu. But through it all little Asta has been my companion--ah, yes!--and how often she has cheered my lonely, solitary life!" I saw that, whatever might be this man's character, he was devoted to her. While she, on her part, had shown herself to be ever watchful of his interests. "Then she really is quite a cosmopolitan!" I exclaimed. "Certainly. She speaks three languages perfectly. Few girls of her age have, like her, seen life in all its various phases, from that of the peasant hut to life here in an English home. But," he added, "when Arnold spoke to you in confidence did he tell you nothing?" "Of what?" I asked. "Nothing concerning his past?" "Nothing." "He did not mention me--eh?" asked my companion. "Only to urge me to carry that letter to you at Totnes." "And he gave you nothing else? I understood you to say that he treated you with a certain amount of confidence," and he looked me narrowly in the face. "He gave me two objects," I replied. "A small golden figure of the Egyptian god Osiris--a very ancient relic--and a curious and much corroded cylinder of bronze." "Great Heavens! The bronze cylinder!" he gasped, starting and standing before me open-mouthed. His face was blanched at mention of it. "Yes." "He gave you that, eh?" he cried in distinct alarm. "And you accepted the trust--you were fool enough to do that?" "Of course I did. Why?" "Ah! You would not have done so had you but known the terrible evil which must now threaten you," he said in a low, hoarse voice, his manner changing to one of great alarm. He seemed agitated and nervous. "I don't quite follow you," I said, much puzzled at his manner. "You are, of course, in ignorance, Mr Kemball. But by the acceptance of that executorship--by the holding in your possession of that cylinder you are a doomed man." "Doomed? How?" I asked, with an incredulous smile.