But, Joel Strides, like all bad men, ever suspected the
worst. The innocent and pure of mind alone are without distrust; while
one constituted morally, like the overseer, never permitted his
thoughts to remain in the tranquillity that is a fruit of confidence.
Conscious of his own evil intentions, his very nature put on armour
against the same species of machinations in others, as the hedge-hog
rolls himself into a ball, and thrusts out his quills, at the sight of
the dog. Had not captain Willoughby been one of those who are slow to
see evil, he might have detected something wrong in Joel's feelings, by
the very first glance he cast about him, on entering the library.
In point of fact, Strides' thoughts had not been idle since the
rencontre of the previous night. Inquisitive, and under none of the
usual restraints of delicacy, he had already probed all he dared
approach on the subject; and, by this time, had become perfectly
assured that there was some mystery about the unknown individual whom
he had met in his master's company. To own the truth, Joel did not
suspect that major Willoughby had again ventured so far into the lion's
den; but he fancied that some secret agent of the crown was at the Hut,
and that the circumstance offered a fair opening for helping the
captain down the ladder of public favour, and to push himself up a few
of its rounds.
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