"Granted, but--well, he has been here several years, and I have known
Asta all the time. Indeed, I confess I am very fond of her. But were
it not for her I would never darken his doors."
"Why?" I asked, much surprised.
"Well," he said with hesitation, lowering his voice. "Because there's
something wrong about him."
"Something wrong? What do you mean?"
"What I allege. I take a great interest in physiognomy, and the face of
Harvey Shaw is the face of a worker of evil."
"Then you have suspicion of him, eh? Of what?"
"I hardly know. But I tell you this perfectly openly and frankly. I do
not like those covert glances which he sometimes gives Asta. They are
glances of hatred."
"My dear fellow," I laughed. "You must really be mistaken in this. He
is entirely devoted to her. He has told me so."
"Ah, yes! He is for ever making protestations of parental love, I know,
but his face betrays the fact that his words do not come from his heart.
He hates her?"
"Why should he? She has, I believe, been his companion for years, ever
since her childhood."
"I know. You are Shaw's friend, and, of course, pooh-pooh any suspicion
there may be against him. Asta is devoted to his interests, and hence
blind to the bitter hatred which he is so cleverly concealing."
"But what causes you to suspect this?" I asked, looking at him very
seriously, as he stood leaning upon the old lichen-covered wall, his
dark thoughtful face turned towards the setting sun.
"Well, I have more than suspicion, Kemball. I have proof."
"Of what?"
"Of what I allege," he cried, in a low, confidential tone. "This man
Shaw is not the calm, generous, easy-going man he affects to be."
I was silent. What could he know? Surely Asta had not betrayed her
foster-father! Of that I felt confident.
"But you say you have proof. What is the nature of the proof?"
"It is undeniable. This man, under whose guardianship Asta has remained
all these years, has changed towards her. There's evil in his heart."
"Then you fear that--well, that something may happen, eh?--that he might
treat her unkindly. Surely he is not cruel to her!"
"Cruel? Oh dear, no, not in the least. He is most indulgent and
charming always. That is why she believes in him."
"But you say that you have actual proof that he is not the generous man
he pretends to be."
"Yes, I have. My suspicions were aroused about two months ago, for
behind his calm exterior he seemed ever nervous and anxious about
something, as though he were concealing some great secret."