“I did not know he was such a desperate character,” remarks Ashley tentatively.
“I do not believe the people of this town knew what his true character was. Helen said he seemed to have torn off the mask that night and that his face was that of a demon. He was wild with rage and left the house with curses. I sometimes think—” Miss Hathaway pauses and her face wears a troubled expression.
“What on earth does she think?” meditates Ashley, who is becoming a trifle bewildered.
“I sometimes think it was his hand that struck down our poor father. But then he could have had no motive, and there was in my eyes a reason for his action which other people could not surmise.”
“And yet that action seemed unexplainable?” hazards Ashley.
“To others, yes. It seemed perhaps a confession of guilt. But after what Helen told me I firmly believe that he has gone to search for her. And when he and Derrick Ames meet, I shudder to think of what may happen.”
Ashley sees the light at last. So Ralph Felton was the favored suitor—Ralph Felton, whom nearly every one in Raymond regarded as a model young man, and who, despite his unaccountable flight, found plenty of people willing to explain it in a dozen charitable ways.
“You say that until lately Mr. Hathaway regarded Felton’s attentions to your sister with favor. Had he any reason for suspending his approval?”
“I imagine so. During the last month or so he rarely spoke of him, and once, when his name was mentioned at table, he frowned.”
“I suppose you know that the case looks black against Ames; that not half a dozen people in the town have a good word to say for him?”