the North,had died a couple of years ago, leaving him a handsome fortune.
"He's always about with Asta," he added confidently in a low voice."And I have suspicion that she has grown very fond of him."
As I glanced across at the pair I saw how well suited they were to eachother. She looked the personification of all that is lovely. Her coolmuslin blouse and grey skirt fell to her young form prettily; her darkwavy hair shadowed the great brown eyes now that she had removed hermotor-bonnet, making them seem to hold in their depths a vague knowledgethat should never come to the ken of man, save perhaps at that momentwhen love would drag from them their slumbering secrets.
But that was only one of Asta's moods, and almost before I had takennotice of it she was laughing merrily with her companion as she handedhim the cake.
I saw that her eyes did not flinch from the steady gaze of those others,but I knew that there was a certain quick thumping beneath the prettyblouse that made her realise she was not quite so adamant as she hadbelieved.
She believed that her secret was her own. It did not matter about herheart. No one could see, and so no one knew.
When we had finished tea the pair rose and strolled away togetherthrough the rosery, towards the flower-garden ablaze with brightblossoms. And as they passed beneath the arches of crimson ramblers andwere lost to sight, my host exclaimed, with a sigh and a sad smile--
"Ah! How delightful it would be to find oneself young again--youngagain like you, Mr Kemball!"
I laughed, and we lit cigarettes and began to chat. I confess that themystery surrounding this man who had so openly admitted to me that hewas an adventurer as well as a county magistrate greatly attracted me.I found myself fascinated by the whole unusual circumstances. Onecurious fact I had noted was that while Asta was aware of Arnold's deathshe had never told the man whom she knew as father. What motive had shein concealing the truth? Again, it seemed very evident that the youngman Nicholson little dreamed that Mr Harvey Shaw was anything else thanthe wealthy idler which he pretended to be. And surely Asta had notundeceived him.
As together we strolled about the beautiful well-kept grounds, and as heshowed me his motor garage, wherein stood four cars of various types,his electric lighting plant and electric pumps for the water supply, Itried to obtain from him some further information regarding the manArnold.
But to all my ingenious inquiries he remained dumb.
Therefore I turned my attention to Asta, and discovered that he hadadopted 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 mountainsof Northern Albania, for instance, living with one of the mountaintribes; and on another occasion necessity compelled me to live for eightmonths in an obscure village in Corfu. But through it all little Astahas been my companion--ah, yes!--and how often she has cheered mylonely, solitary life!"
I saw that, whatever might be this man's character, he was devoted toher. While she, on her part, had shown herself to be ever watchful ofhis interests.
"Then she really is quite a cosmopolitan!" I exclaimed.
"Certainly. She speaks three languages perfectly. Few girls of her agehave, like her, seen life in all its various phases, from that of thepeasant hut to life here in an English home. But," he added, "whenArnold 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 treatedyou with a certain amount of confidence," and he looked me narrowly inthe face.
"He gave me two objects," I replied. "A small golden figure of theEgyptian god Osiris--a very ancient relic--and a curious and muchcorroded cylinder of bronze."
"Great Heavens! The bronze cylinder!" he gasped, starting and standingbefore me open-mouthed. His face was blanched at mention of it.
"Yes."
"He gave you that, eh?" he cried in distinct alarm. "And you acceptedthe 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 evilwhich must now threaten you," he said in a low, hoarse voice, his mannerchanging 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 acceptanceof that executorship--by the holding in your possession of that cylinderyou are a doomed man."
"Doomed? How?" I asked, with an incredulous smile.
"I tell you this quite openly and frankly, because you have alreadyproved yourself my friend," he said, his face now entirely transformed.We were standing together at the edge of the square croquet lawn, oncethe bowling-green, where the great old box-trees were clipped intofantastic shapes, while at the end was the long stone terrace with theopen park beyond.
"I think you told me that he made you a present in banknotes?" Shawwent on. "Ah! Melvill Arnold knew only too well what dire unhappinessand misfortune, what deadly peril, possession of that cylinder mustentail. He therefore made you that payment by way of a littlerecompense. Did he instruct you what to do with the thing," heinquired.
"On a certain day I am to hand it over to a person who will come to meand ask for it."
"To hand it over without question?"
"Yes, without question."
Shaw was silent for some moments. His brows were knit, and he wasthinking deeply, his arms folded as he stood.
"Well," he exclaimed suddenly, at last, "I never dreamed that he hadentrusted the cylinder to you. You, of course, still hold it in yourpossession?"
"Yes."
"Then, if I were you, I should be very anxious for the arrival of theappointed day when you are to be relieved of its heavy responsibility.The history of that metal tube is a record of ruin, disaster, and death,for misfortune in one form or another always overtakes its possessor.Its story is surely the weirdest and most terrible that could berelated. I knew that Arnold was in Egypt, but I never dreamed that hewould dare at last to take the cylinder from its hiding-place and conveyit here--to England!"
I recollected how my friend had just before his death declared that itscontents would amaze the world, and I made quick inquiry concerning it.
"What it contains I do not know," he replied. "Only Arnold himselfknows, and he has unfortunately carried his secret to the grave. It wasfound, I believe, in the tomb of King Merenptah, the Pharaoh under whomthe exodus of the Israelites took place some twelve hundred years beforethe Christian era. Arnold himself discovered it at Abydos, but onopening it, dreaded to allow the thing to see the light of day, and inorder to preserve its influence from mankind, he again buried it in acertain spot known only to himself; but, no doubt, somewhere near thegreat Temple of Amon-Ra, at Karnak."
"Why did he wish to preserve his discovery from mankind?" I asked, muchinterested.
"How can I tell? After his discovery he returned post-haste to England,an entirely changed man. He would never reveal to me, his most intimatefriend, what the cylinder actually contained, save that he admitted tome that he held it in awe--and that if he allowed it to go forth to theworld it would have caused the greatest sensation in our moderncivilisation, that the world would stand still in amazement."
"What could he have meant by that?"
"Ah!" replied my companion, "I cannot tell. All I know is, thattogether with the cylinder he discovered some ancient papyri recountingthe terrible fate which would befall its possessors, and warning any oneagainst handling, possessing, or opening it."
"A favourite method of the ancients to prevent the rifling of theirtombs," I remarked with a laugh.
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"But in this case Arnold, who was a great archaeologist, and coulddecipher the hieroglyphics no doubt, investigated the weird contents ofthe cylinder and satisfied himself that they were such that no mortaleye should gaze upon without bewilderment. Those were the very words heused in describing them to me."
"And did anything terrible happen to him as a result?" I asked.
"From the moment of that investigation misfortune dogged his footstepsalways. His friends died one by one, and he himself was smitten by thatinfection of the heart, which, as you know, has terminated fatally."
"How long ago is it since he made this discovery in King Merenptah'stomb?" I asked.
"About four years," was Shaw's reply,