"I take it this is Nanteos," the young aristocrat looked across at her hitch-hiker. "It's a really lovely house. Who lives there now?"
"Today, it is a hotel," the man told her. "The Powell line died out when the last Powell was killed in the First World War. The estate passed to the Mirylees family, distant relatives, after a court case in which the terms of the will of the last Mrs. Powell were set aside. The house and grounds have since been sold several times, but the Mirylees family retain the cup - or did until recently."
"So why have we come here?" Lady Sylvia brought the car to a halt outside a massive archway."
"Maybe I brought you here so that my fould associates could kidnap you?" the man in the trenchcoat's eyes twinkled as he spoke.
"Maybe you did," she laughed, "but I don't believe that. You've got an agenda, but I think our agendas merge somewhere. What do you know?"
"Far more than you could ever know," the man in brown shook his head. "And I must confess to several personal interests. I have brought you here so that you can see where the cup came from. It may give some clue as to where the cup now is."
"I'll contact my friend," Lady Sylvia removed her mobile 'phone from her handbag, pressing the shortcut for Ms. Madison's 'phone. It simply proclaimed that there was 'no signal'.
"She's probably in Lampeter," the man told her. "Now, shall we take a look around?"
"Why?" Lady Sylvia looked worried.
"Because there are things that we must see here," the mysterious man spoke softly. "My dear Lady Sylvia, just because the cup is no longer here does not mean that there is nothing here. Follow me and I will show you."