"Ah! That's a complete mystery, Mr Kemball," was her reply. "That Mr Arnold was wealthy--tremendously wealthy--there is no doubt. Yet he was as mysterious himself as was the source of his enormous income. It was derived in the East somewhere, but of its true source even the Commissioners of Income Tax are unaware." "He was a complete mystery in many ways." "In every way. I was one of his most intimate friends, but I confess that I was most puzzled always. He lived in secret, and it appears that he has died in secret," replied Mrs Olliffe. "I had hoped, Mr Kemball, that you could perhaps throw some light upon the manner in which he has disposed of his property." "Unfortunately, I know nothing," was my reply. "He merely asked me to perform several little services for him after his death; and having done them, there my knowledge ends." She looked me steadily in the face for a few moments with her shrewd, deep-sunken eyes, and then with a smile said-- "I expect you think that I am hoping to benefit under his will. But, on the contrary, I know full well that I should not. All I can tell you, Mr Kemball, is that if you have accepted any trust of Melvill Arnold's, then only evil can result." "Why?" I asked quickly, remembering the character of the woman before me. "Because Arnold was a worker of evil." "Then you were not his friend, eh?" "Yes, I was. Only I have warned you," was her quick reply. Curious that Harvey Shaw should have also made a similar assertion. Had he not told me that the bronze cylinder which reposed in the safe just behind where she was seated had brought evil upon those who had held it in their possession? I found Mrs Olliffe distinctly interesting. As I sat chatting with her, I recollected the strange stories told of her at the Old Bailey, and of her curiously romantic life. Now that she was free, she was, without doubt, again carrying on her old game. Once a woman is an adventuress, she remains ever so until the grave. Though she had denied all knowledge of Shaw, it seemed to me that only through him could she have learnt of my existence and my acquaintance with the dead man Arnold. More and more it appeared plain that the man who had died in that hotel off the Strand was possessed of great wealth, yet the source of it was a mystery complete and profound. She had known him intimately, yet she would tell me very little concerning him. "He was, of course, very eccentric," she declared. "One of his fads was that he scarcely ever slept in the same bed twice in succession. He was constantly changing his address, and he preferred to present the appearance of being poor." "Where did he live usually?" I asked. "Half his time he was abroad--in Tunis, Algeria, or Egypt. He seemed extremely fond of North Africa. Why, I could never discover."